While Moira stinted not on Jacob's Creek

Red wine was a fine art I never mastered

That Saturday night was an epic session

We strode naked in her garden, plastered

My memory of events is somewhat vague

A thorn ripped the seat of my underpants

Then I was rolling about the grass, stinking

Of cat-shit, eaten alive by nocturnal ants

Moira was concerned about a hedgehog

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They say it will soon be over

That it's just a teenage thing

They dont know what they're saying

Last night I gave you my ring

Its like I'd known you forever

We seem to go back to Creation

To the shrine of Adam and Eve

We send our invitation

Midnight at the end of time

Midnight at the end of time

I'll love you at least until

Midnight at the end of time

...

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