I see many different faces  

    As they pass me in the street;

And some smiles upon the faces  

    Of the people whom I meet.

 

I can hear the rumbling traffic

    As it slowly passes by

And from down inside a pushchair

     I now hear a toddler cry.

 

I feel lost beside the thousands

   Who surge through the shopping mall,

With the constant noise of voices

    As they chat or sometimes bawl.

 

I smell coffee in the café

     And the smell of . . . .

                  ooooh!steak and chips -  mmm

But the taste which I love most of all

      Is when they reach my lips.

 

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