Lyric

London mornings, always grey

Fog-drenched cobblestones, the carriage wheels shine

Smoke from chimneys hides the sky

And even our future seems out of sight

Up the hill to the market, pigeons pecking crumbs

Dad’s worn-out boots, they fit my feet just right

The street musician plays on, though the town is poor

Rusty melodies wrap the streets tonight

Will tomorrow bring warmer bread to hold?

Will our dreams tear like this tattered coat?

But it’s alright, because you’re here with me

Even in this broken world, we can still be free

Iron machines roar, factories swallowing the town

Dad’s work vanishes, one by one

Voices of anger and sorrow echo at night

Gripping a hammer, someone’s breaking something inside

But I know you stand in the bakery’s corner

Fixing your hat, hands dusted with flour

Boom, boom, boom — the machines’ roar is gone

Only the beat of my heart plays on

Will tomorrow bring warmer bread to hold?

Will our dreams tear like this tattered coat?

But it’s alright, because you’re here with me

Even in this broken world, we can still be free

Someday, we’ll clear this grey sky

Walk hand in hand beneath the sun

Over that green hill across the river

Running free, that’s the dream I’ve spun

Night falls on the damp cobblestones

A little lamp lights up our room

I feel you’ll visit me in tonight’s dream

Yes, I truly believe it will come true