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