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

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