| In Orient where wise I was
|
| To please the way I live
|
| Come give the beggar chance at hand
|
| His life is on his lip
|
| Three score a thousand times
|
| Where once in Amazon
|
| Where Eldorado holds the key
|
| No keeper holds my hand
|
| Unchain the gate of solitude
|
| The ruler says you run
|
| Run hard unto the scaffold high
|
| Your chance to jump the gun
|
| Oh how high the scaffold grows
|
| The plant life of your widow
|
| In black lace curtains brought you near
|
| From out the plate glass window
|
| The Minotaur with bloody hands
|
| Is enraged by the sun
|
| Caged he by the corpses
|
| Brought forth by the dawn
|
| In Orient is as I told
|
| The buckshee hangman swears
|
| For open crypts to silence
|
| Nylon knots to sway by prayer
|
| Unchain the gate of solitude
|
| The ruler says you run
|
| Run hard unto the scaffold high
|
| Your chance to jump the gun
|
| Oh how high the scaffold grows
|
| The plant life of your widow
|
| In black lace curtains brought you near
|
| From out the plate glass window
|
| In Orient where wise I was
|
| To please the way I live
|
| Come give the beggar chance at hand
|
| His life is on his lip |