I’m seated at Waterloo Station’s gate
Number 22, it’s getting late
Homeward bound/Trip to home, just a few breaths away,
In the gentle breeze, I choose to stay.
Ah the breeze, it whispers softly
Ah the breeze, it soothes me gently
I watch the world, its busy flow,
Pigeons linger, where scraps may go,
Travellers with their bags in tow,
All waiting for their lives to grow.
Ah the breeze, it whispers softly
Ah the breeze, it soothes me gently
My neighbour reads, his title concealed,
Behind those glasses, his thoughts revealed,
Waiting patiently for someone's grace,
In this crowded, transient space.
Ah the breeze, it whispers softly,
Ah the breeze, it soothes me gently.
Just as I prepare to depart,
A crowd approaches, a fresh start,
I linger here, a bit more, please,
To savour solitude in the gentle breeze.
Ah the breeze, it whispers softly,
Ah the breeze, it soothes me gently.
In the bustling world, I find my ease,
In the tender embrace of the lovely breeze,
With Waterloo's whispers, I am at peace,
In this moment's serenity, my heart's release.
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