There's a [bad word] out of the darkness 
Parade from paradise 
End the need for eden 
Chase the dreams of merchandise 

There is tic and toc in atomic 
Leaders make a deal 
The cosmic is [bad word] 
con they couldn't conceal 

There is no safe seat at the feast 
Take your best stab at the beast 
The night is turning thin 
The saint is turning to sin 

Raise the art to resistance 
Danger dare to be grand 
Pride reduced to humble pie 
Diamonds down to sand 

Take heart from earth and weather 
The brightness of new birth 
Take heart from the harvest 
Shave the harvest from the earth 

Reasoning is partly insane 
Image just an eyeless game 
The night is turning thin 
The saint is turning to sin 

Miracles will have their claimers 
More will bow to Rome 
He and she are in the house 
But there's only me at home 

Rose is a rose of splendor 
Posed to respond in the end 
Lonely things like nights, 
I find, end finer with a friend 

I hear in the rate of her heart 
tear in the heat of the art 

The night turns thin 
The saint turns to sin