Lyrics:

Fresh from zones of moisture
Obscured sight and fancy dreams
Holy mass, those 13 fancy dreams

I am the one you warned me of
I am the one who'd never, never lie

Eyes like bottles and hands in my hair
Bottles of blackness the blacker the spare
I'll sit myself behind that clock
And play tunes on it's belfry

Five fingers have I to play them like ten
Ten fingers have I to play them again
In decimal chains whose mimic cry
Whose notes will never, never fly
Until they quit those timely tunes
And entered that system from outside

I am the one you warned me of
I am the one who'd never, never lie