Blues and greys and greens across the river
We went into winter London parks, my darling
Monuments for blood spilt in foreign lands
It's on our hands, it's all across our faces

Photographs in paper bags
And she is far
She's getting so much further every day

Well, youth was no excuse I will excuse you still
For every single dirty magazine, my darling
Monuments on Margate Sands staples across your hands
And all across your face

Photographs in paper bags
And she is far
And she is getting further every day

And all those rivers underneath the city flow with tears
And there's another garden flooding every day

Photographs in paper bags
And she is far
And she is getting further every day