Sat bolt upright, hollow eyed and stark naked
In the greasy fog of the steaming wand
My mind turns, my mind turns to the glories of El Dorado
Hope falls like torrential rain
Scouring blood from the streets
With the cursed mutants of recent years
So I lace my skin with gold and dive
Head first to the river as if it were Guatavita
And I'm searching for something
Oh just something strong enough
To peel the daggers from my eyes