Night though I do not sleep
I dream of the park up the road
I open the bushes, a couple of lovers
Trying to be [lust-rockers]
And although my spouse is in the other room
I think we can do it here
Yes, uh, and she makes me pay
For every [girl and dussel of hat]
Anyway here, quiet here
You thought it'd be great
You thought it'd be great
But a good mind does not a good boff make
I take you to the park up the road
But here is the rain
Rain makes policemen no threat
Turns cars into little specks
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Muffles the shouts of your neighbour
And we will have sex here
Here, here
Couch, shagged out
There's no hard-ons
It's just come and it's gone
I'm becoming everything I used to hate
But I can't go back there
Not back there, I can't go back there
Not back to the park
The brown monk ghost'll catch us
And make us lust-rockers
Make us wear huckleberry masks and, uh, huckleberry masks
You sing you don't believe in [couples]
But I can't believe that
Especially the crap about the huckleberry masks

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