Mountainous pictures of coloured scenes appear upon my face And the joss stick smoke of sense dissolves forever in its place The shadowy friends that line the walls all dream while laying down While the window tapping silhouette in rain begins to drown Chorus A: In the room of percussion The discussion slides as you enter through the door   And the one armed bandit Laughs aloud and disappears once more   Foolish thoughts of ecstasy are dead but without too much concern In the hearth my hopes by millions lay twisted as they burn The crooked faces of clocks appear and die in nightmare dreams While juggling music surrounds us both and turns our thoughts to screams Chorus B: In the room of percussion The discussion slides as you enter through the door   And the one armed bandit Laughs aloud and disappears once more   My God the spiders are everywhere! With ruby wine and our tangled nerves our mouths flap in despair And with tumbled words of poetry we try and prove we care But the glow-worm light of creativeness moves out into the rain And the joss stick dies and disappears its scent alone remains Chorus A Chorus B