In a room like any other
In a room like no other
In the solitary cell
Clouded with light
Sitting straight at his length
A burgeoning flame, a flower
The principal within the hollow
The excrement of divine sorrow

In a room like any other
In a room like no other
In my twisted sheets
His hands are vines
Climbing unseen
Forming shadows
Rituals unknown
And through him reborn

In the bright pavilion
Dawn is spreading
At the foot of the bed
A calming foot
White bars of light
In the solitary cell
No film that flickers
No mirrors at all
In the comic stillness
With his hands folded
On this lovely morning
Oh, this lovely journey
Rituals, shadows
Form, reform
Circle the room
Reborn through him

In the joyous, in the joyous
In the joyous dead of night
The slash of words
Sons of the dead
The cross and the sword
The unholy mother
Gather together
In a room like any other

Hands like vines
Limbs like climbs
Glorious twisting
Handlike staining
The dangling feet
Where he sits asleep
Where he sits asleep
With his eyes wide open
Dead hands revived
Dead hands revived
And the comic foot
Another step
One step, then another
Past the green chair
Past an image
Of himself

Slowly, he goes
From the room like any other
Toward the mountain
Toward the mountain
In Mexico
Where the soul quakes
Where the heart aches
To Mexico
Our sleeping friend
So scorned, adorned
One step, then another
From the solitary cell

In a room like any other
A man like no other
An ivry, where time warns
An ivry, where time
Where time warns
For time
Time to go
An ivry where time warns
Time to go
Tick, tick, tock
Tick, tick, tock
Tick, tick, tock
Tick, tick, tock

La la la la la la
Time to go