The Last Living Rose

Goddamn Europeans! Take me back to beautiful England And the grey, damp filthiness of ages And battered books and Fog rolling down behind the mountains On the graveyards, and dead sea-captains Let me walk through the stinking alleys To the music of drunken beatings Past the Thames River, glistening like gold Hastily sold for nothing Nothing Let me watch night fall on the river The moon rise up and turn to silver The sky move The ocean shimmer The hedge shake The last living rose Quiver