There's a MKII parked on the cobbles
Of a Chelsea Mews, and out of the shadows
Steps a figure, silver mohair bright
Into the moonshine out in to the night
And in the darkness, one stray moonbeam
Creeps through the curtains on the unmade bed
She stares at the ceiling, just an empty feeling
He starts the Jaguar and drives away
And no one breathes a word
Cos even breathing can be heard
Right through the silver screen
They've made inquiries, they'll make it easy
But she won't answer cos she's not really there
He throws his gloves out the open window
He lights a cigarette and drives away
He starts the Jaguar and drives away...
