Let the foreigner show you the way in the beloved London.
Down to the underground markets in Camden and to the haloumi-hippies.
Setting, setting and setting. With chalky club t-shirts and stiff fingers. My forarms are aching, but it does not matter. Cardio, we are running. I am running. Where?
Hail, sun, warmth, snow, rain, clouds. We've got it all. Listening to Seafret in a little coffeehouse session,
they are going as big as THE Ben Howard. And we are eating carrots in a bar.
Planning my days and being famous for my dream catcher.