There's a man who walks the lonely field at midnight

He wears a matching suit, steel tipped shoes and the diamonds

And he holds the dying flame, the loaded dice and the answer

He stalks the open road that leads form here to there

You'd better look out, watch out, beware

There's no safety here

Crouched by the fence, sweat dries cold on your every breath



Where's the saviour that the critics dream about now

He's telling jokes to all the saviours in the ward

Be warned when it comes to that, to the point of indecision

When you hesitate, he'll make his choice for you



You better look out, beware

There's no safety here (no, no, no safety)

Crouched by the fence, sweat dried cold on your every breath

His eyes, they turn red

You think and recall what he said



He puts a name to every face

Table talk and wall to wall

Winners win the game, and the losers win the war

Resurrection, intersection, comic books and mass defection

Vinyl floor and sliding doors, nothing more

Lost the thread of conversation

Sentence fails and engine roars

No recall, blindfold to the stairs

Is it now?

Is it now?