Never ever mention we'd climb up ladders For the denizens of community. All this hard work makes this land great. Blind tunnel is black. If the pencil squeaks he uses his finger to write in the slate As a juror in day of reckoning King's a mile-high head, a mile-high hand. Blind shadow is black. Bill's got to come down Hey Bill, the master says you've got half high enough. Bright red stream of life runs! Slave away and keep the taut drag on a line While stares blankly up in the sky Nobody minds a disheveled look like you Blind scape is the only way. Bill's got to come down Hey Bill the master says you've got half height enough. Bright red stream of life, through our veins run fast!