Covent Garden.
Midnight.
Revellers and tourists combined.
The market is heaving.
Last trains are leaving.
An eclectic mix to broaden the mind.

Covent Garden.
2am.
The place is pretty quiet.
Pubs have closed.
Clubs.... God knows.
The tourists have frozen their riot.

Covent Garden.
4am.
A drunkard stumbles by.
Flood lit shops.
A rickshaw stops.
The backdrop against a reddish
sky.

Covent Garden.
6am.
Blokes lurk down Langley street.
The glint of a blade.
A blur in the shade.
Lava tip of cigarette falls to a strangers feet.

Covent Garden.
8am.
Commuters emerge from underground stations.
Workers prepare.
Visitors beware.
Pick pockets attracted like gravitation.

Rolling on by east west way
I could almost see behind me,
As I almost did yesterday.
In my right corner eye
I saw the sun shine setting
and on my left the ocean was swaying and swelling.
Rolling on by east west way.

The sand searchers toy store
was full and flowing more and more.
Yet while staring at it straight ahead
I only saw a light changing to red.
Rolling on by east west way.

So I glanced a moment to the setting sun
and to my right was the only direction
I could see the light.
But the sand searchers toy store was blocking the rays
and it only beckoned me to play.
Rolling on by east west way.

If only I could've rolled on by east west way
as the sun was rising over the ocean's sway.
Then perhaps I would see and stay
in the right light.
Not rolling on by east west way.