And it took me ages to get home,
In a city I would’ve never thought I’d call home.
This is where magic happens,
Where I’m equally invisible and very observable,
Where you could walk without getting anywhere,
Where you could go without getting somewhere,
But where places are home everywhere.
You can walk on the Southbank,
Imagining how it feels to swim down the river,
Or you could go south the Thames, where all the fancy people live.
You can walk through Camden
And taste the wild side,
Or go to the museums and galleries,
And find that life is on the palm of your hand,
Listening to you, feeding you, tasting you…
I know I’m home now; I’ve stopped missing myself.