There’s a voice on the phone
Who just called in to say
«Mr Jones isn’t home
He’ll be gone for the day»
So he pulls down the blind
To adjust his disguise
But it’s all in his mind
Which he proudly denies
I turn the boat back from the weir
Where to go from here
I can’t hide from each face I see
Looking out from behind them is me
I’m attempting to guess
What they meant when they said
«Mr Jones and his guest
Won’t be using the bed»
So if I take the rap
While they stay out of sight
I can spring from the trap
When the timing is right
One minute I think I know what I mean
The next I hear voices inside disagree
Why are they laughing at me?
So I pick up the phone