| No one to see, nowhere to go
|
| Nothing to do, no one to know
|
| Eighth Lock
|
| Eighth Lock!
|
| Nothing will live, nothing will grow
|
| No one will care, no one will know
|
| Eighth Lock, you never can win
|
| You only get out by not going in
|
| They put me into the ground
|
| Lost without light, without taste, without sound
|
| Beneath the barren mound
|
| They put me in a place they call Eighth Lock
|
| (Eighth Lock!)
|
| But I’m getting stronger
|
| (Eighth Lock!)
|
| Not very much longer!
|
| No one to see, nowhere to go
|
| Nothing to do, no one to know
|
| Eighth Lock
|
| Eighth Lock!
|
| Nothing will live, nothing will grow
|
| No one will care, no one will know
|
| Eighth Lock, you never can win
|
| You only get out by not going in
|
| Who the hell am I?
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah!
|
| And what did you do to my hands?
|
| I’m getting stronger
|
| They built this place with steel
|
| And painted it with mud
|
| It’s constantly on fire
|
| They put it out with blood
|
| They said it was a prison
|
| But became so much more
|
| The maze it built into itself
|
| They had to bar the door
|
| Bar the door!
|
| Quickly, you fools!
|
| Nothing to do, nowhere to go!
|
| The floating eyeball is to be feared
|
| The pupil hides a maw
|
| They say that children run this place
|
| That’s how they missed the fatal flaw
|
| Eighth Lock, you never can win
|
| You only get out by not going in
|
| No one to see, nowhere to go
|
| Nothing to do
|
| Eighth Lock, you never can win
|
| You only get out by not going in
|
| No one to see, nowhere to go
|
| Nothing to do, no one to know
|
| When you come to Eighth Lock
|
| It’s like some vile rebirth
|
| Where devils delve into your life
|
| And demons deem its worth
|
| The food comes through a hole
|
| My cellmate is a troll
|
| The warden, he has hooks for hands
|
| We all play our roles
|
| We all play our roles!
|
| Or wind up
|
| On a pole
|
| (Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock
|
| Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock!)
|
| A diabolic construct
|
| (Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock!)
|
| As flesh runs rife with worms
|
| (Eighth Lock, Eighth Lock)
|
| Somehow flesh and metal merge
|
| As bloated larvae squirms
|
| The things within, they made with rules
|
| Ahh…
|
| They steal the souls of those they think are fit to play their hateful games |