The City (Live At Sticky Studios)

This city never sleeps

I hear the people walk by when it's late

Sirens bleed through my windowsill

I can't close my eyes

Don't control what I'm into

This tower is alive

The lights that blind keep me awake

With my hood up and lace untied

Sleep fills my mind

Don't control what I'm into

London calls me a stranger

A traveller

This is now my home, my home

I'm burning on the back street

Stuck here sitting in the backseat

And I'm blazing on the street

What I do isn't up to you

And if the city never sleeps

Then that makes two

The pavement is my friend

It will take me where I need to go

I find it trips me up

And puts me down

This is not what I'm used to

The shop across the road

Fulfills my needs and gives me company

When I need it

Voices speak through my walls

I don't think I'm gonna make it

Past tomorrow

London calls me a stranger

A traveller

This is now my home, my home

I'm burning on the back street

Stuck here sitting in the backseat

I'm blazing on the street

What I do isn't up to you

And if the city never sleeps

Then that makes two

And my lungs hurt

And my ears bled

With the sound of the city life

Echoed in my head

Do I need this to keep me alive?

The traffic stops and starts

But I need to move along

I'm from the city where the rain won't cease,

Pollution in the air matches that on the streets,

The black smoke,

Gets your head in to a muddle like,

Waliking into elephants, Syringes in a puddle like,

I was a country boy when I moved out,

Grew up too fast for my family to find out,

Now I try to stop my music running into nosedives,

Can't resort the arrogance with white lights,

The city won't erase me,

But I can't help but see just how this dark city changed me,

It's all the same scene, music is my life, But now I try to fight whatever

I need to hide from,

North, South, East, West, Londons my home now, knees weak,

But we never slowed down,

Now I start to do my music properly,

And stay away from all the negative **** that will follow me.

London calls me a stranger

This is not my home, home

I'm burning on the back street

Stuck here sitting in the backseat

I'm blazing on the street

What I do isn't up to you

And if the city never sleeps

Then that makes two

Burning on the back street,

Stuck here sitting in the back seat,

And I'm blazing on the street,

What I do isn't upto you,

And if the city never sleeps then that makes two