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A young wrinkled face with lips of grace

It was you who stepped back into the fortress, the gates

All had been lost in the journey across the seas

For it is said to be a beautiful girl in the dead city

Days are gone when she couldn't talk to you

Quit chasing time for there is so much to see

Follow your lead and speak to you 

The time has gone when you sat far from thee

Try to find that same wrinkled face, not found 

You assure her, it was glittery and profound 

How lost in thoughts can she be with no sound

There is a life yet to see, and life too is round

Pulled you closer in liking, love or jest

Disregard the love in her you invest

Would she still be the same girl sublime

Could she find you any girl so fine

Closed a door on you, you locked like a mangle

Then she waltzed with you teaching the body's 'love angle' 

From London Bridge to the Big Ben and all that, intense

Through Streets of Oxford and Bakers, with food all French

She is the same girl to you, all soft and warm

Could she remain the same after love and all, had been gone

Hope and all had been lost in the journey across the seas

For it is said to be a dead girl in the beautiful city, yet you don't want it to be

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