Seven Screaming Diz-Busters
They held their heads with laughs of pain,
They'd learned from men who'd just refrain
From glancing at a mirror's face.

Seven screaming diz-busters, who lurked behind a rose,
Had iron for a bloodstream and ice behind their eyes.

On each and all those holy nights,
When 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,

Well, seven screaming diz-busters
should go the route and die.
Without the warmth they learned 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 names still are.

Well their laugh of pain...And their hardened smiles...
And their rigid arms...And their evil signs...

Longer days and the longer nights,
and they're longer,
and they're longer still

On each and all those holy nights
Where dusters dust becomes the sale and Lucifer, the light

It's a burning light.
Can't stand the light.

on Tyrrany and Mutation, 1973