Gas gauge is in the orange, And my mouth is dry. These clothes are torn. So softly, place all your fingers On the brokedown palace Of my head Each contusion is a battle I remember well for awhile. But I know, at least I think, That it all works out With kinder infiltration, Or a hard-earned retreat. Hallowed be this hellish place Where by and by we will will come. When no one sees there's no disgrace, We sometimes prefer the shadows to the sun. Hallowed be this hellish place Where by and by we will come. When no one sees there's no disgrace, We sometimes prefer the shadows to the sun.