The idols of the cave
A bluish idol
A groom and bridal
Showering the warm and dimming fire
And the peasant's tire
Burning through the nighlit streets of
Pittsburgh's only phone wire
Turns and faces you
To turn and I say I want you to know
I hear and sway
I crack and burn
Down the towering turn
Of Pittsburg's only phone wire
Alabaster and you're mine
In another life