Leaving Home
East coast trains run slow,
And Edinburgh seems cold,
For eighteen year-old,
Freedom.
But Leith feels like New York,
All the cars and talk,
Moving down the Walk,
All day.
So I'm lying in this hotel,
Hearing sirens and drunken fights,
And I pay cash to the angel,
Guarding me tonight.
So I'm lying in this hotel,
Hearing sirens and drunken fights,
And I paid cash to the angel,
Guarding me tonight.
Long days on my own,
Cry when I go home,
Have to carry on,
Somehow.
But Leith could be New York,
All the cars and talk,
Moving down the Walk,
All day.