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Lions

Red sun go down way over dirty town

Starlings are sweeping around crazy shoals

They send a girl is there high heeling across the square

Wind blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles

Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light

She looks around to find a face she can like

Church bell clinging on just to trying to get a crowd for Evensong

Nobody cares to depend upon the chime it plays

They're all in the station praying for trains the congregation late again

It's getting darker all the time these flagpole days

Drunk old soldier he gave her a fright he's crazy lion he's howling for a fight

Strap hanging gunshot sound doors slamming on the overground

Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone

Her evening paper is horror torn but there's hope later Capricorns

Lucky stars give her just enough to get her home

Then she's reading about a swing to the right

But she's thinking about a stranger in the night

I'm thinking about the lions, thinking about the loins

What happened to the lions, to the lions, to the lions, to the lions

Thinking about the loins

Thinking about the loins

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