Archangel's Thunderbird - The Breeders

When the everywhere eye asks you

«Who is the emperor of the sky?»

Take the Archangel’s Thunderbird

Go to Edgar Allen

In the tower of sleep

He’ll tell you a story

Which makes you to creep

The echo of your cries

Is falling too deep

Rent a destroyer

And sail to Cape Cod

There lives a lion

They call him God

There’s no elevator to Eden

But a hole in the sky

In shock corridors, people standing

With their eyes in their hands

But they don’t understand

Why their confessional folding chairs

Go into the narcotic flight of stairs

Baiting soldiers are sleeping

In the melting House of Wax

Why the audience’s not taking

The insurrection axe

Thousands of windows burst open

And the alarm bells are broken