You locked me in the bathroom long ago, you bloody bastard
But sadness never floods a house where wine flows, I'm here playing

Lute Score, the video game where you hit the high score by composing
Lute Scores, and shooting off the pop up panda's head
Shooting off the pop up panda's head

When the monster attacked the city everyone was just too busy making money
To give a shit, some fled, most kept on doing what they were doing

In Samarkand Uzbekistan the Vietnamese chiropodist
Extracted a glass of clear green tea from his samovar
Extracted green tea from his samovar

A ghost tended two moss gardens, one marshmallow, one ectoplasm
Something to do with the free bamboo, something to do with the snow

Green plants, folk and fairy tales from German Africa
Swamp leg, an inner lightbulb, tragedy on stilts
An inner lightbulb, tragedy on stilts

Pins and needles, shoes and stockings, aches and pains, and vermin
Panthers waging war on cranes and storks

A battered, bandaged head climbs up an uphill landscape
A 200 foot wingspan black butterfly in space
200 foot black butterfly in space

An eager red-eyed dog licks red raw meat from an open ash can
Lamps, chairs, books, lightbulbs, cherries from a knife
A Decca-Deram furbelow, master of the bungalow
Writing with the white ink, the white ink of life

Lute Score, the video game where you hit the high score by composing
Lute Scores, and shooting off the pop up panda's head
Shooting off the pop up panda's head