| I'll be on my way, he said | |
| As the knife quivered in his eye | |
| I laid down my heavy head | |
| The screaming wall began to cry | |
| You lost your last hold on your flimsy mind | |
| You know you've done it now | |
| I turned my head and looked behind | |
| At the blood welling from his brow | |
| The harlot slowly crossed her legs | |
| Vanished into a drowning child | |
| Forty rows of angry spikes | |
| Each one through a squiggling limb | |
| The glass faces of the frigid mares | |
| Dragged and sheltered in the wind | |
| The cold draught brought the stench of pus | |
| The boil bubbled on his flesh | |
| The grey mist wafted in | |
| Undulating, shrouded all | |
| I was walking up the endless steps | |
| Oozing purple from the cracks | |
| Blazing Betelgeuse lit the way for me | |
| Laser heat transmit my soul | |
| The pressure force forced me on | |
| To the long knife at the end | |
| The wave rocked by brain | |
| Crashing, smashing, all wrong | |
| Lighthouse beam cross the black waste | |
| Split the black till it was dawn | |
| My mind returned to that stale room | |
| That head took all his brain | |
| Slowly, slowly it died away... | |
| Would I ever be the same? |