(Difford/Tilbrook)
The moths at the window
They can see the light
The crickets crick in the dark
My pen runs out of ink
As I start to write
The feelings that are in my heart
This headache wonЎЇt subside
IЎЇve got you on my mind tonight
The silence of the telephone
DoesnЎЇt bother me
But I wish that it would ring
IЎЇm confined to quarters
IЎЇm in solitary
IЎЇm the man who would be king
The small handЎЇs on the five
IЎЇve got you on my mind tonight
The loneliness for loving you
Is some price to pay
But are my pockets deep enough
The chorus of the morning
