Pete Townshend

The White City, that's a joke of a name
It's a black violent place if I remember the game
I couldn't wait to get out but I love to go home
To remember the White City fighting
The White City Fighting, remember, remember
The White City Fighting, remember, remember
Down to the refuge, near QPR
I drive to committees in my German car
Prone to violence, prone to shame
I glide in silence, my pride in vain
For no one remembers, not that I can see
That we were defenders, we were the free
The White City, blood was an addiction
Now it is analyzed just as though it were fiction