cancel the car   to number ten   such a thick fog rolling in   I played my cards   on unreal glass   I left the party next to last      Friday night to Sunday morning I go on   I don't know if I am really here at all   Monday down to Friday night   I work all day   move emptily so emptily through Holloway      forget my face   I won't be back   I hear your friends have turned their backs   when summer comes   where Rose Street winds   the longing makes you close you eyes   it's unreal so unreal   to walk along these streets   it's unreal so unreal   to close your eyes and breathe      (chorus)      when I left you at the Coronet this morning   you said that your happiness was gone   but the hum of voices somehow brings me back here   though there's no happiness and there's no love      mid-afternoon   Lincoln's Inn   terraces though crying wind   before the night I disappear   what else can I do round here?