In this room In this room you'll find where silence sits Quiet and removed, the hiss of the red hot coals Listen to the birds tune the telephone poles On this street On this street, you've found where reality lives Lock it up, board it up like it don't exist Put a bit between its teeth, no it won't be missed And let it choke on its bile, let it choke on its spit ♪ In this bed In this bed is where we lay our sick Everybody knows That we're shaped beneath the devil's walking stick Well if you're looking for rest You ain't gonna find it It's probably happiness, there, shoot up your fix But the tightrope walker, oh, the tightrope walker He twirls his baton hand Shoots his arrow cross the set And says "Oh, I'll be back again." Oh, I'll be back again ♪ In his head In his head you'll find where the four hands tick The seconds and the minutes, the desire and the trick Bend together both the sticks till the fire gets lit The plans will do a dance as the jokers do a jig Now I'm looking round the room Wondering what's wrong with this shit And the tightrope walker Oh, the tightrope walker And the tightrope walker I am the tightrope walker