Windows are nailed shut With curtains made of lead A carcass thrown away to rot An orphan left for dead Decay is in the walls Behind the bolted iron doors Asbestos dust falls And sinks in through our gaping pores Waltz in an impasse Barefoot on broken glass In the lightless rooms Sealed like ancient tombs In the search of glory Find a path to purgatory And set this house ablaze In funeral pyre flames