A light snow is falling on London
The train pulls into the stations
All sign of the living has gone
And no
Don't hate me
I'm not special like you
I'm tired and I'm so alone
Don't fight me
I know you'll never care
Can I call you on the telephone, now and then?
It guides all the shadows below Inside the ghost of a parting
One light burns in a window
And no-one is left, just the cigarette smoke.
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