There's a man who walks the lonely field at midnight   He wears a matching suit, steel tipped shoes and the diamonds   And he holds the dying flame, the loaded dice and the answer   He stalks the open road that leads form here to there   You'd better look out, watch out, beware   There's no safety here   Crouched by the fence, sweat dries cold on your every breath      Where's the saviour that the critics dream about now   He's telling jokes to all the saviours in the ward   Be warned when it comes to that, to the point of indecision   When you hesitate, he'll make his choice for you      You better look out, beware   There's no safety here (no, no, no safety)   Crouched by the fence, sweat dried cold on your every breath   His eyes, they turn red   You think and recall what he said      He puts a name to every face   Table talk and wall to wall   Winners win the game, and the losers win the war   Resurrection, intersection, comic books and mass defection   Vinyl floor and sliding doors, nothing more   Lost the thread of conversation   Sentence fails and engine roars   No recall, blindfold to the stairs   Is it now?   Is it now?