Buildings tower round me like they’re waiting for the kill.
For days I haven’t eaten and I really do feel ill.
If I cry for help, will you hear my call?
If I stumble now, would you let me fall?
Won’t you give me a hand?
Try to understand,
I’m a stranger in the city.
Stuck inside these streets it’s like a human traffic jam.
People walk right over me now, they don’t give a damn.
If I ask for death, would you give me a gun?
If I took your hand, would you turn and run?
Won’t you pity me,
Just try to see,
I’m a stranger in the city…
© John Miles