An older one - "from the vaults".
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Lyrics
Coming through your keyhole is a whispering:
"The stranger's breaking down".
Every night the sound of locks is echoing all across the town.
Wasn't there a time when the stranger was a stranger?
Now you know him oh so well.
There's a spring we could unwind, but the company declined.
Greed has been this way and left its fingerprints
On the rich man and the thief.
There's this little trick they do with confidence
Now they're beggaring belief:
Walking on the weak: there are pensioners upon the floors
And children on the moors.
Did we cease to recognise our own in others' lives?
[Chorus:] I was going to trash us in a single sweep:
How we've let ourselves go, the company we keep;
The passing of our cities over into shadow;
And the howling at the doors - but there's one thing makes me pause:
In the company of strangers, with friends I've never known,
These words expect a home.
In between the wreckers and the "keep-it-cleans"
There's another line:
We are only slipping back to how its been for the longest time.
I say it with regret;
Like the tourists and the visionaries there's Englands in my mind.
There are green and pleasant lands crumbling in our hands.
[Chorus]
They still expect a home.
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