Sunday morning, here we are The boy’s come home not quite the movie star He’s been in Hollywood The boy’s come home The boy’s done good He says she asked too high a price neglecting to declare what sits between them there on ice, chilled, with the fizzy and the still: he tried but didn’t make it there ‘It’s not for me It’s not for me’ Sunday papers, here we are The boy’s come home The boy’s come home