So fire it is,
to make our dark streets clean again
like hands of god
just dusting off the blackboard...
and with all we've worked for gone,
and all we cherished lost, we can start again.
So play your violin and breathe the sulphur in
take it on the chin as London sheds its skin.
Play your violin and try to hide your grin
as it burns away your sin, and London sheds its skin
"where are your churches and libraries? where are your books and memories?"
"We burned it all."