Now that the Day of Lurve has passed, I have decided to bring up the vexed topic of philandering. Far be it from me to pass judgment (I'm a bloke, I'd be biased). Back in '86, when this musical majesty was first issued, my chum Martin, was an 'experimentalist' (he wasn't married, so not a red card offence...blokes viewpoint). His girlfriend was nice, but clearly not enough. After an evening of post-dance 'experimentalism', Marty was due to pick up his girly from her house. As he went back out to the car from her house (she applying some last minute 'slap') the windscreen had steamed up a tad, to reveal a mysterious pair of footprints...from the previous evening's, ahem, 'experimentalism'. Fortuitously, they equally mysteriously vanished, just as girly got to the car, due to the application of extreme elbow grease by Marty, now perspiring freely. A salutary lesson, for all those contemplating auto gymnastics with a temporary friend. This song carries shades of lusty intrigue...fitting.