| Have you seen the old man |
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In the closed down market |
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In his eyes you see no pride |
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Hands held loosely by his side |
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Yesterday’s paper telling yesterday’s news |
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So how can you tell me you’re lonely |
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And say for you that the sun don’t shine? |
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Let me take you by the hand |
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and lead you through the streets of London |
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to make you change you’re mind. |
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Have you seen the old gal |
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Who walks the streets of London |
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Dirt in her hair and her clothes are in rags |
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She’s no time for talking, |
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She just keeps right on walking |
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Carrying her home in two carrier bags |
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And in the all night cafe |
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Same old man is sitting there |
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over the rim of his tea-cup |
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Then he wanders home alone |
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And have you seen the old man |
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Outside the seaman’s mission |
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With those medal ribbons he wears |
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the rain cries a little pity |
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For one more forgotten hero |
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And a world that doesn’t care |
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