Essential Salts of animals may    Be so prepared and preserved    That an ingenious man    May have the whole Ark of Noah in his own    Study and raise the fine shape of an animal    Out of its ashes at his pleasure       Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood    Bring only fear and sadness    Old years of play   Wretched is he who looks back upon lone hours    In vast and dismal chambers    With brown hangings    And maddening rows of antique books       Watch them in twilight groves    Oh in twilight groves    Oh in twilight groves       By method from the essential salts of humane dust    A philosopher may call up the shape of any dead ancestor    From the dust where into his body has been    Incinerated incinerated incinerated       You're under pressure baby    Christ has returned he's returning    In every new born child    In every new born child       You're under pressure baby    Christ has returned he's returning    In every new born child    In every new born child    In every new born child       Essential Salts of animals may    Be so prepared and preserved    That an ingenious man    May have the whole Ark of Noah in his own    Study and raise the fine shape of an animal    Out of its ashes at his pleasure       You're under pressure baby    Christ has returned, he's returning    In every new born child    In every new born child       You're under pressure baby    Christ has returned, he's returning    In every new born child    In every new born child