Not a single door in this house Will shut closed all the way They are swollen with the moisture Of all the things that we refuse to say No counsel held in private, not a whisper will survive When cursed acoustics are at play Our portraits in the hallway seem to mock our firm commitment To corner and to frame Comfort in the idyll, comfort in the idyll s**ling at the teat of gra**y plain Comfort in the idol, comfort in the idol Of the temple built by all the tithe we've paid Found a note left inside, inside of the pulpit It reads quietly, perforated at the side “Acknowledge the beast in the room Acknowledge the beast and get eaten alive You'll get eaten alive” So all rise Yeah, all rise They all arrive just like you arrive So don't even try Don't even try Comfort in the idle, comfort in the idle Keep the speaking creature in his cage