The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.

The keeper of the city keys
Puts shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants the funeral march,

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"Cat's foot iron claw
Neuro-surgeons scream for more
At paranoia's poison door
Twenty-first-century schizoid man

Blood rack barbed wire
Politicians' funeral pyre
Innocents raped with napalm fire
Twenty-first-century schizoid man

Death seed blind man's greed
Poets' starving children bleed
Nothing he's got he really needs
Twenty-first-century schizoid man"