Red sun going down, way over dirty town
Starlings they’re sweeping around, crazy shoals
Yes and a girl is there, high heeling across the square
The wind, it blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles
Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light
She looks around to find a face she can like
Church bell clinging on distant, trying to get a crowd for Evensong
Nobody cares to depend upon the chimes it plays
They’re all in the station praying for trains
Congregation’s late again
It’s getting darker all the time, these flagpole days
Drunk old soldier he gives her a fright
He’s a crazy lion, he’s a-howling for a fight
Strap hanging, gunshots sound
Doors slamming on the Overground
Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone
Her evening paper is horror torn
But there’s hope for later, Capricorn
Her lucky stars give her just enough to get her home
Then she’ll read about a swing to the right
But she’s been thinking about a stranger in the night
I’m thinking about the lions
Thinking about the lions
What happened to the lions
Tonight, tonight, tonight
Thinking about the lions
Thinking about the lions