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Lyric Fire at midnight


I believe in fires at midnight, when the dogs have all been fed.
A golden toddy on the mantle; a broken gun beneath the bed.
Silken mist outside the window -
Frogs and newts slip in the dark.
Too much hurry ruins a body:
I ll sit easy; fan the spark.

Kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
Go upstairs: take off your make-up -
Fold your clothes neatly away.
Me, I ll sit and write this love song
As I all too seldom do -
Build a little fire this midnight.
It s good to be back home with you.

Kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
Go upstairs: take off your make-up -
Fold your clothes neatly away.
Me, I ll sit and write this love song
As I all too seldom do -
Build a little fire this midnight.
It s good to be back home with you.