I walk along the strandto catch the late ride home.Shuttle through the evening gloomknowing I forgot to phone.The back door's open.There's a chill blowing in.Take your warm hands off me.Let the night begin.Shush your mouth.Listen to me.I won't say nothing --Just let me be yourToad in the Hole.Kicking through the wet leaves lyingall along the station road.Past tired graffitti wailing,raw emotion to unload.There's coal in the fireplaceand money in the bank too.Deep-pile carpets, tinsel wallpaper.Still got the back room to do.Don't be late.Got a day's work behind me.Feel a little devastatedbut my nights are assignedto you.No tom-cat creeping, nowcould ever be so boldto hang around our place tonightwhen I come in from the cold.There's a straight-six in the garageand some fine wine to cool.Labour-savers in the kitchen,room in the garden for a pool.Shush your mouth.Let imagination runhere in bed-sit heavenwhere all the best wishing's doneto warm Toad in the Hole.