So fire it is,nto make our dark streets clean againnlike a 'reset' button on our lives,nlike hands of godnjust dusting off the blackboard...nand with all we've worked for gone,nand all we cherished lost, we can start again.nnSo play your violin and breathe the sulphur inntake it on the chin as London sheds its skin.nPlay your violin and try to hide your grinnas it burns away your sin, and London sheds its skinnnwhere are your churches and libraries? where are your books and memories?nnWe burned it all.