Sat in the snug
The rug before the open fire
After a walk along the pavements
Past the sculpture
Behind the church
Overheard Irish accents
Using militaristic terms
Talks of re-unions
Open doors
Did I hear the words of war
Anyhow
The kindly landlord
Called last orders
Once more out onto the street
Once more out in to the night
We tiptoed, we whispered
We thought perhaps to scare
To tell of subterfuge
And sabotage
And all the glory of no more
Before then our love
That night we visited
As children at the fair
Oh so then our love
That night revisited
In flames of passion bore
Later a Mexican beer
A slice of lime
The same old faces
As from before
The talk of re-union
Was of a day at the races
The trace of hearing few
We tiptoed and we whispered
And smiled for what we knew
Again, before then our love
The night we visited
As children blessed, so so free, so so rare
Oh then our love
The night we revisited in flames of passion dare