Hey mister, can you help me
I'm looking for a room
It's red and black with chevrons
Beyond the cosmic womb
But I don't
Know how to get back home
I've seen it out in the trees
Scorched oil and sycamores
Obscure the muffled screams
Moving slow and below
Passing through the red drapes
Fear in the corridor
The man from another place
A backwards conspirator
But I won't
Know how to get back home
To save her from the dead cold
Like the dweller on the threshold
From now until the old
But I don't seem to know when I am
