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They held their heads with laughs of pain |
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They learned from men who'd just refrain |
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From glancing at a mirror's face |
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Seven screaming diz-busters |
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Who lurked behind the rose |
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Cast iron for a bloodstream |
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And ice behind their eyes |
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On each and all those holy nights |
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When dusters dust becomes the sale |
|
And lucifer the light |
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The light |
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They're long so long this time of year |
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When stars be crossed by twirling fear |
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You don't suppose i'd prove surprised |
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Seven screaming diz-busters |
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Should go the route and die |
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Without that warmth they've learned to crave |
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With hardened smiles and evil signs |
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Bury me near the secret cove |
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So they'll not know the way |
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Bury me there behind the rose |
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So they'll not rile my grave |
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I'll not reveal whose name still lost |
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Well their laughs of pain |
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And their harder smiles |
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And their rigid arms |
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And their evil signs |
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Yeah, the longer days ah, the longer nights |
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Oh, yeah the longer |
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Yeah, they're longer still |
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On each and all those holy nights |
|
When dusters dust becomes the sale |
|
And lucifer the light |
