I stood near Bethnal Green Station in East London .
It was past twilight .
I stood alone on the cobblestones there .
The trains where on strike that night .
It was cold on the cobblestones and somehow
I had to make it home .
I walked on as the fog fell down towards
the light of a public phone .
Cobblestones sat under soft moonlight that night .
T'was a romantic sight .
The phone in the phone box rang .
But nobody answered the call that night .
The wind passed me by on the corner .
Where the Good shepherd mission stood .
On cobblestones a taxi cab drove
around Bethnal Green’s neighborhood .
