I took a picture of a fountain
Walked away instead of counting
All the hours I had left before I had to go
Walking wanton a desperate city and the subway's cold
And filthy but the homeless men are not aggressive
But I'm still afraid of them because I can't understand the cold
And the language that he speaks is not as foreign as the way
I treat him. Thousands of miles in one direction
Just to toy with my affection
Emotional wayside will, I'm ill and I want to go
I slept on the streets of London
Thought I had a friend in London
Until the bright lights woke me up and I'm still here
But I'm not afraid of him because I can understand the cold. And the language that he Speaks is
Not as foreign as the way he treats me
Oh, and I want to go home