No falling chimes, no call to arms, No siren whines, no false alarms, Down the telephone lines At the side of the farms Arm in arm, down hemlock row Where the flowers of evil... never grow Under one heartbeat, heavy but slow Walking together in the purple snow charming breezes, bring the rain It's gonna run like rats down the gutters and the drains It's gonna run like a river Down the window panes Down a web of cracks, like twisted veins A stranger... calls my name between the rollerama and the junk yard Where the panorama looks like Mars And the belladonna looks like stars Behind the Panamanian bars In the dying gardens... down below Walking together in the purple snow.