| Midnight
|
| And her porchlight’s on
|
| The signal
|
| That her man is gone
|
| She’ll open her back door wide
|
| I’ll slip down the alley, then slip inside
|
| She’s waiting
|
| Just inside the door
|
| In perfume
|
| Probably nothing more
|
| She’ll greet me with her arms spread wide
|
| Hit by the darkness, we’ll fly, fly, fly
|
| Standing here
|
| I feel just like a criminal
|
| Returning to the seen of the crime
|
| Every time that we steal these loving hours
|
| We promise that it will be the last time
|
| Sneak out
|
| Just before the dawn
|
| Knowing that we’ve done her man wrong
|
| He’s out working while we’re at plays
|
| And my conscious hounds me
|
| The whole long day
|
| Mmmmm
|
| Sun down
|
| My blood starts to stir
|
| All my thoughts go back to her
|
| At midnight my guilt will ease
|
| And I’ll be watching her porchlight
|
| Begging baby, please, please, please
|
| Standing here
|
| I feel just like a criminal
|
| Returning to the seen of the crime, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| And every time that we steal these loving hours
|
| When we’re stealing, when we’re stealing it
|
| We promise that it will be the last time, yeah |