If the night church is spilling people all over the sidewalk,nThen our open bottle will spill dangerous, fantastical talk.nDid I mention the devil living in my landlord?nDid I tell you my grandpa used to see sea monsters?nnAnd I tell you I see monsters in this very city.nAnd the grotesque becomes the only mystery.nAnd if you look close enough you can see right through me.nnYou follow your heart and I’ll trail after your hair.nSailin’ behind me in the still night airnDid I mention the coming Mayan change?nNothing ( will/ should) ever be the samennAnd I tell you I see angels in this very city.nAnd the grotesque becomes the only history.nAnd if you look close enough you can see right through me.