I shout all my obscenities from steeples
But please don’t label me a madman
I’m off to see the Bootleg Beatles
As the bootleg Mark Chapman
Cafe bars, idiots and pigeons
There’s far too many in this town
So me and the ombudsman are gonna do what we can
When the evening sun goes down

Yes some of my pullovers are roll-necked
It kind of breaks up the ennui
But your experimental side project
Must have put 10 years on me
Opposite the Bannister and Shamrock
Which used to be the Rose and Crown
I like to play Pat Boone on the county bassoon
When the evening sun goes down
When the evening sun goes down
(Get on down)

When the evening sun
When the evening sun
When the evening sun goes down

When the evening sun
When the evening sun
When the evening sun goes down
There are questions in corners of my mind that lurk
Like how do the road gritters get to work
Answer me that and you could win a cruise
And here’s Judy Tzuke to take us up to the news

Are these my ultimate pyjamas
Is this my final dressing gown
I’m sending on this rhyme deep in injury time
When the evening sun goes down
When the evening sun goes down
When the evening sun goes down