Better Days Lyrics

A young man walks across the avenue

Headed to Miss Adams' Westside loft

What's a peasant's son like him supposed to do

When a woman sleeps in golden cloth?

He takes his news he takes his magazines

He takes his route to Downing Street

He walks until he sees her chateau door

And whistles all along the way

Better days, better days, better days on the way

Better days, better days, better days on the way

Young woman wakes before the sun can rise

To watch her world step into view

A most peculiar site to feel concrete

Beneath a sole-less diamond shoe

She reads her news she reads her magazines

She loves the world she cannot know

The news he brings her speaks of time gone by

But she looks on to better days

Better days, better days, better days on the way

Better days, better days, better days on the way

Better days, better days, better days on the way

Better days, better days, better days on the way