Through until the morning
there’s nobody listening
they’ve all gone home
and thankfully he’s alone
and nobody knows
so he sits right down
and he picks up a stone
and wonders where he’s gonna roam
his bum gets cold
he starts to move
he shivers a bit 
starts to groove
dances underneath the lube of the luna

he finds his way 
when he runs right down 
to the riverside
without a frown
the silver dancing 
all around
cold and wet to the morning

icy, its true
possibly dying
but the blood comes back
and he stops the sighing
finds some cardboard
that’ll do him
he waits for the sun
and a bit of mother’s ruin

he lies down and bakes right through
he thinks this ain’t bad this’ll do
then comes the night
and you know what’s due
right on through