Those London brokers
Them city smokers
The ones in long coats
With pockets full of notes

Tall as the sky scrapers 
Real life Donald Drapers 
Bad-ass money makers
Young movers and shakers 

Well groomed hair and faces 
Perfectly tied shoe laces
Bodies as ripped as their wallets
Dodging all of life's bullets 

They walk along Oxford Street 
Ignoring everyone they meet
Now they're not arrogant at all 
Just oblivious to people small 

I'm not meant for one of them 
Invisible in the street as I am
Too thick are my nose and thighs
So I'll never catch their eyes 

But that's alright, it's okay 
Because soon, one day
I'll wear a long coat
And own my own boat

I'll be a city slicker 
Minus all the liquor 
And as I walk down the street
I'll smile at everyone I meet 

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