Inside the sixteen-windowed room, so divine
That the moon asks gently at the glass
To come in
Across the checkerboard hell, where the snake
To the apple fell
She keeps the silence with no mercy for men
Inside the room with the four on the door
Where one and one's three, then one more
She bends the will of the world into one
Sixty-four steps up at the top of the stair
No god of man would dare
She sits sipping her coffees and creams
Her blue eyes shine like black
No one who sees them can ever come back
Except in the prayers of their dreams
Inside the room with the four on the door
Where one and one's three, then one more
She bends the will of the world into one...
Next to the jar where the sunflowers sleep
Drunk on the tears the mortal men weep
She winds the watch from before the end of time begun