Now, as I walk on the south riverbank Synthesized I am creating false memories That will be useful to me As the tenements sit On their flat, concrete hands They grow slowly fat with distance And all along the Thames In brown or in grey They are empty But there's no other place Or thing to be done There is no one But this one The waters may move Just as I seem to be walking I travel between every absence Between every casing As the tenements sit On their flat, concrete hands They grow slowly fat with distance And all along the Thames In brown or in grey They are empty But there's no other place Or thing to be done There is no one But this one