Now, as I walk on the south riverbank
Synthesized
I am creating false memories
That will be useful to me
As the tenements sit
On their flat, concrete hands
They grow slowly fat with distance
And all along the Thames
In brown or in grey
They are empty
But there's no other place
Or thing to be done
There is no one
But this one
The waters may move
Just as I seem to be walking
I travel between every absence
Between every casing
As the tenements sit
On their flat, concrete hands
They grow slowly fat with distance
And all along the Thames
In brown or in grey
They are empty
But there's no other place
Or thing to be done
There is no one
But this one