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Not one particular person. Just a devoted cricket spectator who's watching/snoozing through a game of cricket for the sheer love of it. From the lyrics, it seems he's living in the Victorian/Edwardian era ('the scent of tweed and gingham fill his colonial senses'), and his mind is drifting off into a golden cricket reverie (in Zanzibar, perhaps?), where he's exchanging bon mots with cricketing greats such as Denis Compton and Donald Bradman. A chap having a thoroughly pleasant daydream under an evening sun out on the boundary.

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Q: Who is the song Mason On The Boundary about?
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