In the coldest, the coldest of nights
Of fire and light to warm my bones
I've had enough of the dreadful cold
And from the flames of his silent maid
I stand before her amazed as she dances and demands
The head of John the Baptist on a plate
And in the morning, shaken and disturbed
Among the soft white fur
See all the dust dance in the morning light
Sets the room alight
And by the telly of his silent maid
Well, I sit up amazed as she dances and demands
The head of Isadora Duncan on a plate
And his silent maid
I stand before her amazed as she dances and demands
The head of John the Baptist on a plate
In the coldest, the coldest of nights
Of fire and light to warm my bones
And I've had enough of the dreadful cold
And from the flames of his silent maid
I stand before her amazed