At night they would go walking ‘till the breaking of the day,
The morning is for sleeping…
Through the dark streets they go searching to see God in their own way,
Save the nighttime for your weeping…
Your weeping…
Singing la lalalalala la lé…
And the night over London lay…
So we rode down to the river where the toiling ghosts spring,
For their curses to be broken…
We’d go underneath the arches where the witches are in the saying,
There are ghost towns in the ocean…
The ocean…
Singing la lalalalala la lé…
And the night over London lay…
God is in the houses and God is in my head… and all the cemeteries in London…
I see God come in my garden, but I don’t know what he said,
For my heart it wasn’t open…
Not open…
Singing la lalalalala la lé…
And the night over London lay…
Singing la lalalalala la lé…
There’s no light over London today…
