When your little world has fallen apart 
You'll be living on Beacon Street 
In a flat above a laundry 
It's warm and forgiving on Beacon Street 
Hundreds of paperback novels adorning your shelves 
Piles of CDs that are eager to please 
Still asserting themselves 

There's something in the morning light 
That is muted and soft down on Beacon Street 
Then a bar or two of classical music 
Will waft through the air 
Newspaper adverts will usher the future your way 
Indian teas and then take-out Chinese 
At the end of the day 

Shadows on furniture cast by the light of the moon 
You've got a fridge full of food 
You won't need to go anywhere soon 

When it's time to start again 
They will welcome you in down on Beacon Street 
Everybody needs a moment or two 
Now and then on their own