I Wish I Could Stop Wishing For Things

On the rundown streets of London

The checkout girl runs inside

The banker’s looking broken

And the grill in my head fries

I’m the clown who let you down

Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things

I wish I could stop wishing for things

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o

On the rundownstreets of London

The gangster bites his thumb

The courier looks lonesome

And the ink in my head runs

I’m the clown who let you down

Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things

I wish I could stop wishing for things

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o

I’m the clown who let you down

Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things

I wish I could stop wishing for things

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o

Wuh-uh-uh-uh-o…

The rundown streets of London