Have you seen the old man in the closed down market 
kicking up the papers with his worn out shoes? 
In his eyes you see no pride, and held loosely by his side 
yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news.

 [bad word]  
So how can you tell me you're lonely 
And say for you that the sun don't shine? 
Let me take you be the hand 
and lead you through the streets of London 
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

Have you seen the old girl who walks the streets of London? 
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags, 
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking, 
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.

In the all-night cafe at a quarter past eleven, 
Same old man sitting there on his own; 
Looking at the world over the rim of his tea-cup. 
Each tea lasts an hour, and he wanders home alone.

Have you seen the old man outside the Seamen's Mission, 
Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears? 
In our winter city, the rain cries a little pity, 
For one more forgotten hero and a world that doesn't care.