Lyrics:
[pack/powell]There's a voice on the phoneWho just called in to say'mr. jones isn't homeHe'll be gone for the day'So he pulls down the blindTo adjust his disguiseBut it's all in his mindWhich he proudly deniesI turn the boat back from the weirWhere to go from hereI can't hide from each face I seeLooking out from behind them is meI'm attempting to guessWhat they meant when they said'mr. jones and his guestWon't be using the bed'So if I take the rapWhile they stay out of sightI can spring from the trapWhen the timing is rightOne minute I think I know what I meanThe next I hear voices inside disagreeWhy are they laughing at me?So I pick up the phoneSomeone's asking of meIs the real mister jonesMister one, two or three?So I say that they're notBut it's not as I say'cos they're all that I've gotAnd I can't get awayAs alice waves us through the glassAre we home at lastFor tomorrow they'll be here you seeLocked away safe inside there with me'cos tomorrow they'll be here you'll seeLocked away safe inside they're with meOne minute I think I know what I meanThe next I hear voices inside disagreeWhy are they laughing at me?