Fire burning in a hill, the lines are rocky rough
Red angels wait to pick remains
The cindered shoulder of confused men
Separate from their, their awe

With gray desire, he looks out mad
His soft, gray, indigo eyes, indigo eyes asking

His heaven is uncovered not, a black tree blocks his way
His way is skating round a dome, his way is in dismay
The playmate sings like Orphee in some thunder world
Asking to be bathed in light, to be exemplified

With gray desire, he looks out mad
His soft, gray, indigo eyes, indigo eyes

Saw his past, he had dug for trust
With blind, infected hands
And wondered as the hurt bit hard
Why the sacred weren't at hand?

Only when his ears were deaf
To the angels light burst waves
Only when his ears were deaf
Did life turn from fog to fog?

But not evil but estranged
But not evil but estranged

Indigo eyes, indigo eyes
Indigo eyes, indigo eyes

With gray desire, he looks out mad
His soft, gray, indigo eyes, indigo eyes
Soft, gray, soft, gray, soft, gray