Photo by Ben Burke

The Pub doors were locked

They were drinking after time,

A dozen demi mondaines,

Drinking beer and spilling wine

Their heads were slightly spinning

As they laughed and joked

Meanwhile in the corner Josie

Sat and quietly smoked.

I stood drying glasses,

Slow but sure

I just turned eighteen,

She almost thirty four

Her eyes met mine through

The blue grey haze

I knew that she was married

But I could not shift my gaze

Slowly the moon went down

Over the power station

Yeah, slowly the moon went down

Over the power station

Patiently she waited till

I finished all my chores

I put down my towel

She headed for the doors

Outside in the street

Standing in the cold night air,

The wind was gusting

Messing up her hair

I came out the door

she took me by the hand

She squeezed it tightly

She made me understand

Heading for the Thames

We crossed the road together

Cuddled closer

Forgot about the weather

(and we)

Could see the moon going down

over the power station

Half light seeping, through the town

Gently stroking the nation

We reached the house

Where she lived with Arthur

He was up in Scotland

A long distance lorry driver

Fumbling with the keys

She puts them in the lock

I look down the street

See someone walking round the block

Climbing up the stairs

I put my arm around her waist

With the inside of her wrist

She caressed my face

Passing quietly by a door

I saw her baby in a cot

That was when she asked me

To be her Lancelot

And then the moon went down

Over the Power Station

It went down, down, down

Over the power station

(Repeat to fade)

(Harry Rogers 20-10-1980)