Windows are nailed shut
With curtains made of lead
A carcass thrown away to rot
An orphan left for dead

Decay is in the walls
Behind the bolted iron doors
Asbestos dust falls
And sinks in through our gaping pores

Waltz in an impasse
Barefoot on broken glass
In the lightless rooms
Sealed like ancient tombs

In the search of glory
Find a path to purgatory
And set this house ablaze
In funeral pyre flames