The trees bend in the wind like flinching beggars
and the bus-shelter's letting in the rain
It's another dark South London winter
And everybody knows Jesus died in vain
That's just how it is
The supermarket checkout girl's just unlucky
To as she scans my stuff she coughs the cobra's cough
Lucy wrote me a letter, pink crayon on blue paper
To say every useless thing we'd planned was off
That's just how it is


Lyrics submitted by BleedorBreathe

South London Winter song meanings
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