The City (Live) Lyrics By Ed Sheeran
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
This city never sleeps
I hear the people walk by when it's late
And the sirens bleed through my windowsill
I can't close my eyes
Can't control what I'm into
And this tower is alive
The lights that blind keep me awake
With my hood up and lace untied
Sleep fills my mind
Don't control what I'm into
London calls me a stranger
A traveler
Oh, oh
This is now my home
My home
No, no, whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
I'm burnin' on a backstreet
Oh whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
Stuck here sitting in the backseat
Oh whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
And I'm blazin' on the street
And what I do isn't up to you
And if the city never sleeps, then that makes two
(Oh, whoa, oh)
And the pavement is my friend, hey
(Oh, whoa, oh)
And it'll take me where I need to go
(Oh, whoa, oh)
'Cause I find what trips me up and puts me down
This is not what I'm used to
The shop across the road
Fulfills my needs and gives me company
When I need it
Voices speak through my walls
And I, I don't think I'm gonna make it
Past tomorrow
Oh, London calls me a stranger
A traveler
Oh, oh whoa oh
This is now my home
My home
No, oh whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
I'm burnin' on a backstreet
Oh, whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
Stuck here sitting in the backseat
Oh, whoa
(Oh, whoa, oh)
And I'm blazin' on the street
And what I do isn't up to you
And if the city never sleeps, then that makes two
And my lungs hurt
And my ears bled
With the sound of the city life
Echoed in my head
Do I need this to keep me alive?
The traffic stops and starts, but I
Need to move along
And look, it's funny where the Queen sleeps
Still ain't got clean streets
But there ain't a day when she ain't got clean sheets
Homeless people roll with needles
And you've gotta pay tax to afford a vehicle
Tube fare doubles up every two years
And the buses upstairs is a no-go area
The man are like "Pass me your mobile, hear me now"
And through the crunch on the credit
You can't get a roof over your head, you're stuck and indebted
Every single month, they come for the debit
Direct action, and they don't play, they
Dive in, snatch things and they don't say that
The crib's vacant, victim of inflation
The black letters turn red 'cause they've been patient
And now six years rent has just been wasted
Still, London calls me a stranger
This is not my home now
My home
Oh, whoa
I'm burnin' on a backstreet
Oh, whoa
Stuck here sitting in the backseat
Oh, whoa
And I'm blazin' on the street
And what I do isn't up to you
And if the city never sleeps, then that makes two
