They held their heads with laughs of pain
|
They learned from men who'd just refrain
|
From glancing at a mirror's face
|
Seven screaming diz-busters who lurked by a rose
|
Had iron for a bloodstream and ice behind their eyes
|
|
On each and all those holy nights
|
Where dusters dust becomes the sale and lucifer, the light
|
|
They're long so long this time of year
|
When stars be crossed by twirling fear
|
You don't suppose I'd prove surprised
|
Seven screaming diz-busters should go the route and die
|
Without the warmth they learn to crave
|
With hardened smiles and evil signs
|
|
On each and all those holy nights
|
Where dusters dust becomes the sale and lucifer, the light
|
|
Bury me near the secret cove so they'll not know the way
|
Bury me there, behind the rose so they'll not rile my grave
|
I'll not reveal whose name still loose (?)
|
Well their laugh of pain...And their harder smiles...
|
And their rigid arms...And their evil signs...
|
Longer days and the longer nights
|
And their longer, and longer still
|
|
On each and all those holy nights
|
Where dusters dust becomes the sale and lucifer, the light
|
|
-----------------
|
7 Screaming Diz-Busters
|
Blue Oyster Cult |