Daemon had just dropped by to pass the time
With a peaceful cigarette
Or maybe with a roll-up filter-tip
He'd still not made it yet

Yes, went on down that old cafe
By the harbour for a little change of view
Took a seat next to the window
Like he would like to do

Saw the fishing boats
The time children fighting over an ice-cream cone
And a pack of Camels on the shelf and beach
Through the rings of smoke he'd blown

Chimney shadows of the factories
Grey walls across the floor
Telegraph-poles and sandy coves
Running down and alone to the shore

Yes, and the statue by the quayside
Of the lancer, once so proud and brave
All in remembrance of his heroic deeds
As he lies at peace in his grave

Yes, in eighteen twenty-four
Somebody had won a war for sure, he thought
And there were flags and ribbons waving

There was feast and celebration, in the air cries of joys
While outside by a steam-shovel
Was a child playing with a toy
Cheap evening return
Cheap evening return
Cheap evening return


Yes, in nineteen thirty-four
Somebody had lost a war
There was trial and tribulation

Oh and the laundry lines with pants that dance
Shirts flying in the careless breeze
Overgrown garden-house, glass, doctor, leaves
Falling from the trees

Like merging into one, lemmings on the run
Perhaps should be somewhere else, who could
Slithering down the sky was candy floss
The child had tossed it up against the window pane

And by nineteen something or other
Yes somebody might like another war
There could be nothin' left to fight for anymore

There'll be feast and celebration, in the air cries of joy
While outside by a little barrel
Was a child playing with a toy
Cheap evening return
Cheap evening return
Cheap evening return