The Crooning Turns To A Sunrise Singing.

Mumbo-jumbo Will Hoo-doo You, Mumbo-jumbo Will Hoo-doo You. Mumbo . . . Jumbo . . . Will . . . Hoo-doo . . . You.

Factory Windows Are Always Brokenother Windows Are Let Alone.no One Throws Through The Chapel-windowthe Bitter, Snarling, Derisive Stone.

Never Be A Cynic, Even A Gentle One. Never Help Out A Sneer, Even At The Devil.

I Think On Death As The Apparent End Of The Illusions That Encompass Us. They All Have A Sudden And Unexpected End, That Challenges Any Faith We Have Pinned To Their Worth.

The Crooning Turns To A Sunrise Singing.