Don't stop the night, we dash to this flat And again for the first time strip off our wet clothes Stop the night, the lovers' sixth sense Instinctively tells us another is close Don't stop the night, we peel back the sheets And glimpse the life history lying underneath in stark relief Stop the night, of the creak in the boards The creak that forebodes the voyeur and the Christmas thief Make the night we first made love come again Don't stop the night of the whispering tale Of your crazy old flame with his heart palpitations and crisp physique Stop the night of this pain in my neck That wrecks any chance of a semi-acceptable sexual technique Make the night we first made love come again The night we first made love at gunpoint For this uninvited, unrequited, undelighted, uninspired Missionary, visionary, mercenary, "stick it up or I fire!" Little boy lost down memory lane - ex-lover Show me the night the skeleton came Out of the closet and under the light feeling very much alive Show me the night, naked and pink, negotiating a hot malt milk We're praying the old lady who keeps a spare key will suddenly arrive Make the night we first made love come again The night we first made love at gunpoint We swallow our pride and catch our breath We swallow our breath and catch a sigh We swallow a spy to watch our death Out of the corner of your eye Little boy lost down memory lane Your coppertone, scatterbrain, crack shot crank Exasperated, lacertated, copy-cat clerk from Barclay's Bank Little boy lost down memory lane Lover, perhaps we'll die Perhaps we'll die Perhaps we'll die