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 the body. I'll sit easy ... fan the spark kindled by the dying embers of another working day. Go upstairs ... take off your makeup --- 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.
