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