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At last the secret is out
As it always must come
In the end
The delicious story is ripe to tell
to the intimate friend
Over the tea cups
and into the square
The tongues has its desire
Still waters run deep my dear
There's never smoke without fire
Behind the corpse
in the reservoir
Behind the ghost on the links
Behind the lady who dances
And the man who madly drinks
Under the look of fatigue
The attack of migraine
and the sigh
There is always another story
There is more than
meets the eye
For the clear voice
suddenly singing
High up in the convent wall
The scent of the elder bushes
The sporting prints in the hall
The croquet matches in summer
The handshake
the cough the kiss
The kiss the kiss
There is always a wicked secret
A private reason for this
At last the secret is out
At last the secret is out