Down In The Street Below

Press the doorbell and push the door

Climb the darkened stairwell to the second floor

She’ll be waiting for you in her dressing-gown

With the drink she poured you when she heard the sound

Watch the film, eat the food she cooked

Talk of how the film ain’t half as good as the book

Kiss her sleepy eyes closed and say ‘it’s time’

To slip beneath the shadows of the bedroom blinds

Well it’s always a pleasure and never a chore

But you just don’t know whether you’re doing it for

The right reasons

It’s cold for the season

Down in the street below

Men and women go about their business

Picking up the last few things for Christmas

Trying not to step upon the pigeons

Praying to the gods of their religions

That they might be spared a little longer

That they might become a little stronger

Down in the street below

Everybody’s on a secret mission

Everybody’s got their own ambitions

They would tell you if they thought you’d listen

They would say how lately they’ve been wishing

For the chance to meet a handsome stranger

Lead a life of elegance and danger

Down in the street below

Down in the street below

Way up high in a phallic tower

You’re swimming in a tiny galaxy of stars

Knocking back mojitos at the cocktail bar

Talking ’bout burritos and conceptual art

Your armchair’s round and your glass is square

The clientele’s straight out of this month’s Vanity Fair

Well look around the place, something’s not quite right

Yours is the only face that you don’t recognize

Well it’s always a pleasure and never a chore

But you just don’t know whether you’re doing it for

The right reasons

It’s cold for the season

Down in the street below