Songtexte Soho - Bert Jansch
                                                Come 
                                                walk 
                                                the 
                                                streets 
                                                of 
                                                crime
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                colour 
                                                bright 
                                                the 
                                                corners
 
                                    
                                
                                                Of 
                                                love 
                                                with 
                                                the 
                                                earth
 
                                    
                                
                                                See 
                                                the 
                                                dazzling 
                                                nightlife 
                                                grow
 
                                    
                                
                                                Beyond 
                                                the 
                                                dawn 
                                                and 
                                                burning
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                heart 
                                                of 
                                                Soho
 
                                    
                                
                                                Hear 
                                                the 
                                                market 
                                                cries
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                see 
                                                their 
                                                wares 
                                                displayed
 
                                    
                                
                                                Through 
                                                the 
                                                window 
                                                of 
                                                your 
                                                soul
 
                                    
                                
                                                Come 
                                                watch 
                                                the 
                                                naked 
                                                dance
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                spins 
                                                before 
                                                your 
                                                very 
                                                eyes
 
                                    
                                
                                                Naked 
                                                like 
                                                the 
                                                sun
 
                                    
                                
                                                Step 
                                                inside 
                                                where 
                                                men 
                                                before
 
                                    
                                
                                                Have 
                                                drunk 
                                                to 
                                                fill 
                                                to 
                                                senseless
 
                                    
                                
                                                Till 
                                                the 
                                                dreams 
                                                fade 
                                                and 
                                                die
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                free 
                                                and 
                                                easy
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                the 
                                                blood 
                                                red 
                                                wine 
                                                come 
                                                flowing
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                glass 
                                                to 
                                                your 
                                                veins
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                midday 
                                                dream 
                                                is 
                                                silent
 
                                    
                                
                                                Thou 
                                                gardens 
                                                where 
                                                you're 
                                                resting
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                troubles 
                                                of 
                                                your 
                                                mind
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                though 
                                                the 
                                                sun 
                                                is 
                                                burning 
                                                brightly
 
                                    
                                
                                                All 
                                                within 
                                                the 
                                                gardens
 
                                    
                                
                                                Are 
                                                the 
                                                sleeping 
                                                oris 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                afternoon
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                buzzing 
                                                bees 
                                                do 
                                                harmonise
 
                                    
                                
                                                Through 
                                                the 
                                                rushing 
                                                sale 
                                                daylight
 
                                    
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