There's a monster caged in white light;
his eyes are diamonds and he's smiling,
singing: "Drink one more to this night
where the angels shout in blasphemy
and devils lose their horns
and we forget of the sirens
and the drunks of darkened roads."
And he sang about tomorrow like tomorrow would surely come
'cos the thinkers were the drinkers who'd forgotten where they came from.
Their pencil takes the pain away, down drowning lips
and water-logged pipes dripping under narrow hips.
Monster, raise your hand high,
tell us what you really wish
behind the promise of free fists and open crypts.