When the everywhere eye asks you
"Who is the emperor of the sky?"
Take the Archangel's Thunderbird

Go to Edgar Allen
In the tower of sleep
He'll tell you a story
Which makes you to creep
The echo of your cries
Is falling too deep
Rent a destroyer
And sail to Cape Cod
There lives a lion
They call him God
There's no elevator to Eden
But a hole in the sky

In shock corridors, people standing
With their eyes in their hands
But they don't understand
Why their confessional folding chairs
Go into the narcotic flight of stairs
Baiting soldiers are sleeping
In the melting House of Wax
Why the audience's not taking
The insurrection axe
Thousands of windows burst open
And the alarm bells are broken