We take you now to a small, morbid room deep in an underground bunker
His skin festering where the cables and iron tubes worm their way in and out of his reconstructed body
John O'Brien sits alone in the sickly green light
Where only two mannequins with screens for heads keep him company.
Past the world, past the night, past the stars where sea birds fly
Past your dreams to Toyland's shore, where we will meet again once more
There's rust in my bones and sins in my flesh
My skin rots wires and iron infest
They've butchered my body to make me the best
Their mad dog of war they unleash on the world
To burn and ravage, gut and hurl
In between, I sit here and think of the girl
The scent of fragrance on the wind
Is all you are and all you've been
Lullabyes and dime store tales
No dreams escape the green room pale
No colors cloud your daydreams
Your penny dreadful memories
Your worn through wartime serial tales
No dreams escape the green room pale
Their one super-soldier, the one that survived
The red pill's for duty, the blue's for inside
Their failed plan for an army of gods made of iron
At night these screens light up with faces I've known
The flesh I've left rots and falls from my bones
I sit with the girl in the screen all alone
(Please exit the bunker, take the red pill, and report for active duty)
(Please exit the bunker, take the red pill, and report for active duty)
