Montague Terrace (In Blue)

The little clock's stopped ticking now
 We're swallowed in the stomached rue
 The only sound to tear the night
 Comes from the man upstairs
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 His bloated belching figure stomps
 He may crash through the ceiling soon
 The window sees trees cry from cold
 And claw the moon
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 But we know don't we
 And we'll dream won't we
 Of Montague Terrace in blue
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 The girl across the hall makes love
 Her thoughts lay cold like shattered stone
 Her thighs are full of tales to tell
 Of all the nights she's known
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 Your eyes ignite like cold blue fire
 The scent of secrets everywhere
 A fist filled with illusions
 Clutches all our cares
 ♪
 But we know don't we
 And we'll dream won't we
 Of Montague Terrace in blue oh in blue