The bell rings . . . It's a decade past my decadence My beast wears rings and he's waiting In the shadows of my hesitations, my silent Hesitations . . . Each image is so clear; It seems I have no hands The gestures of the air confuse all my demands
And the beast hears the bell; he comes Out of the shadows. He rips apart the shadows . . . And he says:
"This is work and not play" And he says: "There's always more than one way . . . This is work not play"
Refrain: I see the ghosts of my childhood . . . Dressed in blue, they trail me in the night They drive these cars with real upholstery They trail me until . . . here comes the night
She was standing, standing on the balcony Her black, black eyes folded over her eyelids Like sheets on motel beds . . . She must be eatin' reds This place is filled with mirrors It echoes what she said And she said:
"I need a judgement day"And she said: "I know there's more than one way, But I want my judgement day . . ."
To sleep without dreams So distant from the mirror Imitating clarity, disguising All the terror . . . I heard a thousand bells From a thousand old cathedrals They rang . . . I haven't heard them since A decade past my decadence The beast hears the bell
I'm cursed to be a singer A singer of the flames A thinker of a fire And a son without a name