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When the everywhere-eye asks you.
Who is the emperor of the sky.
Take the archangel's thunderbird.

Go to Edgar Allan in the tower of sleep.
He'll tell you a story which makes you to creep.
The echo of your cries is falling so deep.

Rent a destroyer and sail to Cape Cod.
There lives a lion, they call him God.
There is no elevator to Eden, but a hole in the sky.

In shock-corridors standing.
People with their eyes in their hands.

But they don't understand.
Don't get with your confessional.
Flare into the vaulting flight of stairs.

Baiting soldiers sleeping in melting house of wax.
Why is the audience not taking the insurrection-axe.
Thousands of windows burst open.
And alarm bells are broken.

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