Stained gla** windows smoked wood tables The slaves of culture toil by night The pall of perfumed true confessions And when the air gets thick as this You can cut it with a straw And as the moon hangs over Waverly they call. Take me to the Paradise, beauty sleeps inside Drinking in the mezzanine with millionaires' first wives Take me to the Paradise, let me live once more Greater men have faced these walls, and fallen on the floor. Here the h*mos**ual novelist Full of rage in 1960 There the coiffured ex-viscount Watches empty seconds fly Until the blood clot zeroes in And grants him immortality again... The moon broke through the hotel curtain And as you lay asleep, I touched your skin And it amazed me you were once inhuman Once you crawled out of your womb Now we grope our way downstairs And we don't need any fool to drag us there.