You
behind the doors where the monsters reside,
watching the citadel fall and Jerusalem calls for an encore,
but they lied to you
as they always do.

We
hope for immortality on this roller coaster ride and down we go again behind the doors where the monsters reside.

I work or I die and when the day is due you will too and whatever or which way the cards fall
Jerusalem will still fall and
they'll still lie,
work or die?

Use your voice,
touch type your voice on the white stick that you carry,
or we could marry,
she coughs and splutters in the kitchen
butters toast and removes from my face
the *** of jam.

I move on beyond where the image burns
beyond where the sane men turn and stand in awe,
seen it
done it and no fun in it for the untied who wait outside the doors where the monsters reside.

Licking jam off my lips she slides me a kiss and I slip on saliva that drips from my tongue,
that is fun, never done that before,
I move away from the door
for a while.