[pack/powell]



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

Someone's asking of me

Is the real mister jones

Mister one, two or three?



So i say that they're not

But it's not as i say

'cos they're all that i've got

And i can't get away



As alice waves us through the glass

Are we home at last

For tomorrow they'll be here you see

Locked away safe inside there with me



'cos tomorrow they'll be here you'll see

Locked away safe inside they're with me



One minute i think i know what i mean

The next i hear voices inside disagree

Why are they laughing at me?