After the Lunch by Wendy Cope
On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love
On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think This is nothing, you're high on the charm and
the drink But the jukebox inside me is playing a song
that says something different And when was it wrong?
On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip, you're a fool, I don't
care The head does its best, but the heart is the
game I admit it, before I am half way across