Torture Garden
"Sacred Heart"

Some day Chris will quit his desk job
Leave the rat race far behind
Until then he'll scrape existence
In this prison they've designed

As the voice whispers in his ear...

On a sphere of sleeping beauty
Trapped beneath still icy wastes
Sacred hearts don't make a sound
Smile is frozen onto face
Cold routines of sterile duty
Blight the lives of living death

Some day Jo will flee the city
Find life in the countryside
Until then she'll choke on fumes
And the bitterness inside

As the voice whispers in her ear...

On a sphere of sleeping beauty
Trapped beneath still icy wastes
Sacred hearts don't make a sound
Smile is frozen onto face
Cold routines of sterile duty
Blight the lives of living death

Some day Paul will call the girl
Who could help him with his mind
Until then he'll prowl dark entries
Paying forty pounds a time

As the voice whispers in his ear...

On a sphere of sleeping beauty
Trapped beneath still icy wastes
Sacred hearts don't make a sound
Smile is frozen onto face
Cold routines of sterile duty
Blight the lives of living death

We put on blank façades
Dressed in white at our own wake
Regrets buzz like drunk corpse flies
Then hatch out larvae in sad sighs
I am so truly very sorry
But she's gone to a better place
There's no more tears for you my dear
Pleasure forever in the sky