I thought I would strike
A Lucifer pose then make a match
And I did, I did
I dropped the box and wrote a catch
And I though I caught
A whiff of sulphur
And our little love drinks home-made lemonade
Like a kid growing up on its own somewhere
Finding its own level
Playing with matches in a deadened street
Unaware that its parents have made
Their own little pact with the Devil
Of un-made things
And I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
And the cute Devil's faithful apprentice
Leaned over for a match
Checked the pa**ports, checked the flights
Checked the hymen
Lit the stairs to a back room
Locked me in a slipped the catch
And so happy we were
With our cute old possessions and stuff
To be made of air and ghosts
And to think that the love we had would always be enough
And would never be placed in care
And I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
But what is this? We have neglected our love
And don't know where it is
And if we don't know, well it's probably on the street
Getting the fireworks wrong and the dealing right
Bonfire Night is loud and bright and lasts all winter
Celebration rends the air
We are here and it is there
We have to call it home
And I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
And the faithful apprentice has acquired a found love
A bright un-made thing of its own Lucifer is unable to share
And his hand in reaching is somehow caught
His match in striking is somehow made to flare
And he sees cigarette smoke curl in her hair
And the bedside alarm blinks nought-nought-nought
In the conditioned air
And he looks for the match-book that brought him there
I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
I thought I caught
A whiff of sulphur
But where in the hell is he?
In the end who cares?
It's only air and the thought of a spark
That keeps us in the dark