Who could be calling at this ungodly hour
The lords have retired
And dead is the fire
You were stirred from your book
By a rap at the door
Your heart is a gasp
And cold is the floor
So who could be calling at this ungodly hour
Does he want of your kiss
Or does he want more
Who would be calling at this ungodly hour
The lords have retired
And dead is the fire
A chill from the pane
Forms a ghost on your spine
The candle it casts
With a conjuror's eye
So who could be calling, this ungodly hour
Does he want of your kiss
Or does he want more