Night though I do not sleep I dream of the park up the road I open the bushes, a couple of lovers Trying to be [lust-rockers] And although my spouse is in the other room I think we can do it here Yes, uh, and she makes me pay For every [girl and dussel of hat] Anyway here, quiet here You thought it'd be great You thought it'd be great But a good mind does not a good boff make I take you to the park up the road But here is the rain Rain makes policemen no threat Turns cars into little specks Muffles the shouts of your neighbour And we will have sex here Here, here Couch, shagged out There's no hard-ons It's just come and it's gone I'm becoming everything I used to hate But I can't go back there Not back there, I can't go back there Not back to the park The brown monk ghost'll catch us And make us lust-rockers Make us wear huckleberry masks and, uh, huckleberry masks You sing you don't believe in [couples] But I can't believe that Especially the crap about the huckleberry masks
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