| In the Café of lost dreams
|
| The night has no eyes
|
| My fever has no heat
|
| And the shadows cure my hate
|
| A theatre of visions plays in my head
|
| Malarial consciousness now remedied
|
| Old grayface, play a song for me
|
| A dissonant tune, a weird lilt
|
| Damp neonlight fills the streets
|
| I search for an anchor
|
| Between monolithic towers of empty life
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| Pour me a glass of amnesia
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| Bleak your teeth of pure stone
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| Sway your arms of concrete flesh
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| Search with eyes of thousand souls
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| Your piped veins in turmoil
|
| Bleak your teeth of pure stone
|
| Sway your arms of concrete flesh
|
| Search with eyes of thousand souls
|
| Your piped veins in turmoil
|
| Rest your soul a little while
|
| In the café of lost dreams
|
| An unspoken agony cooled down
|
| The old devourer bereaved a little
|
| Greenlight flows all riverlike
|
| A duke plays a jazzy tune
|
| Glass-interspersed walls light up again
|
| As clouds unveil the moonlit path
|
| On which we all will walk one day |