Blues and greys and greens across the river We went into winter London parks, my darling Monuments for blood spilt in foreign lands It's on our hands, it's all across our faces Photographs in paper bags And she is far She's getting so much further every day Well, youth was no excuse I will excuse you still For every single dirty magazine, my darling Monuments on Margate Sands staples across your hands And all across your face Photographs in paper bags And she is far And she is getting further every day And every river underneath the city flows with tears And there's a new garden flooding every day Photographs in paper bags And she is far And she is getting further every day