Here is the angel of the world's desire   Placed on trial   To hide in shrouded alley silhouettes      With cigarette coiled   To stike at passing voices   Dark and suspect   Here is the howling ire      Here is the sacred face of rendezvous   In subway sour   Whose grand delusions prey like intellect      In lunatic minds   Intent and focused on   The long thin matches   To light the howling fire      No, no, not me,   Burn, I don't wanna burn