Lightning hits the house of wax
Poets spill out on the street
To set alight the incomplete
Remainders of the future
Hidden in the yard. Hidden in the yard.
Thunder drowns the trumpets blast
Poets scatter through the night
But they can only dream of flight
Away from their confusion
Hidden in the yard. Underneath the wall
Buried deep below a thousand layers lay
The answer to it all
Lightning hits the house of wax
Women scream and run around
To dance upon the battleground
Like wild demented horses
Hidden in the yard. Underneath the wall
Buried deep below a thousand layers lay
The answer to it all