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Martyn John London Conversation London Conversation In a foreign city once again You wave at weakly in the night The early sun of London morning Burned the darkness with unanswered light But morning found you crying Waiting for a woman Where she left you in an empty state of mind Waiting not for her but for relief from passing time And a young friend talking softly As the mist keep tumbling down But the woman waiting for him near Stayed and told you of the peace that could be found And a fallen heart was woken In your tired waiting time And you thought you might begin again From all the ashes of your mind And though he used no poetry His words are weaving songs And the peace they were recalling Were good roads that you might have walked along And the skies you saw were all the same Although his words were not your own But the words and images you've spoken Are the ashes from a peace you'd never known |
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