We live in a glamorous mansion   with naplam in the walls.   Waterfalls fall like intestines from   flying gutted gulls.   We live in a glamorous mansion   with fast ghosts in the walls.      My bedroom window looks out on    crucified orange groves.   Frail fingers in our five-course food.   Biblical rains when the midnight   maids strip nude.      When the fire's chewing up your   walls where you gonna go?   Nooses hung from the stars tell me   yes or no.      Nausea shreds your head.      Would you rather be homeless or   dead?   When your floor's foaming at the    mouth where you gonna run?   French windows passing out    drinking all night long?      Nausea shreds your head.      Would you rather be homeless or   dead?   Will you look back?   Will you hesitate to leave all your    posessions behind?   Will you look back?      Or are you going to sink with the   ship and say everything's alright?   Are you gonna jump, jump, jump    out the window or burn, burn, burn   with the furniture?