 |
 |
 | |
| Pete Atkin sings
The Prince Of Aquitaine by Clive James and Pete Atkin, [Much more at www.peteatkin.com] |
|||||
| LYRIC: | |||||
|
I flew home into the city after dark and in the clear With a seat beside the window and the usual thrill of fear When the spoilers send you sliding down the drain The sky was full of London all around the tilting wing I could have hooked a street out like a pearl and diamond string But I think my fingers couldn't stand the strain And to the ruined tower came the Prince of Aquitaine In the continental terminal the maxi-coats look rich It'd take a better eye than mine to even fault a stitch The simple hair is golden as the grain While in Piccadilly Circus hunkered down and neon-lit There are kids with ancient faces who are praying for a hit But tonight the only free one is the rain And to the ruined tower came the Prince of Aquitaine The highway lights of sodium are cut and set like gems They run like this in whisperlines until they reach the Thames Their afterimage wealthy in the brain Beneath the bridge's footway in the shelter of the stair A cripple plays harmonica for pennies from the air While the river proffers answers to his pain And to the ruined tower came the Prince of Aquitaine In idle docks they're due now to be running out of meths Their eyes inside the darkness like a latterday Macbeth's As Birnam wood comes close to Dunsinane I have brought them all the plunder of the international jets An envelope of sugar and two hundred cigarettes So I know now that my quest was not in vain And to the ruined tower came the Prince of Aquitaine | |||||
 |
 |
    | |||
 | |||||