St Christopher

Seems like a heavy load
Anti-depressants lessen episodes
While the West End boys in their hand-me-down clothes
Brag about fights under high street lights
She walks alone the long way home
And oh, she's a troubled soul
Oh so troubled but nobody knows

Looks like his armour's old
Carrying chinks that his father used to own
And when he hits the bottle it definitely shows
He's a Machiavellian in a rebellion
I wish I could see, I would so follow
And oh, he's a terrible state
Oh so terrible, drowning in hate

But oh, when you see him
He's smiling at the ceiling
And telling you he's never growing old
And oh, when you see her
She smiles when you greet her
And tells you that she's never alone
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here

While the young professionals city square mile
Worry for the first time in quite a while
She smirks then cursed, let the bourgeois burn
More concerned with a friend who is wild
Encouraged by guys I don't trust
And I say leave 'em alone or I'll visit your home
Uh oh, he's a loveable rogue
We'll all be responsible when he goes

But oh, when you see him
He's smiling at the ceiling
And telling you he's never growing old
And oh, when you see her
She smiles when you greet her
And tells you that she's never alone
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here
As long as St Christopher's here