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Hey mister won't you tell me,
What is it that you see.
Is there something over there,
We're all too blind to see.
I hope it's not old Juggernaut,
who's come to feel his way.
From things I've read,
perhaps you've heard,
he's death wrapped up in grey.

It seems unwise to dexologise,
when you don't know what's for sure.
Be my friend and tell me please,
is it death or is it more?
He looks a lot like a phoenix flop,
but he seems a friend to you.
We don't know what's happening here,
please tell us what to do?

Come all aboard this crumbling ship,
If you want to take my trips.
For those of you who crawl in doubt,
Least you scream within without.
Conceal that artificial fuss.
Do not neglect his eyes have sussed.
For he's the Lord of the Incubus,
And in his mind his dreams bring lust.