Fire At Midnight

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 a body: I'll sit easy; fan the spark. Kindled by the dying embers, of another working day. Go upstairs: take off your make-up - 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. Kindled by the dying embers, of another working day. Go upstairs: take off your make-up - 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.