I'm the last angry tenant in a house out of time; Now I'm serving my sentence that's befitting the crime. The clock counts down the hours, the final curtain call; My time and space collapsing the night before the fall. I'm the last lonely tenant in a house out of time; The only mouse still stirring that hasn't earned a dime. The pendulum descending, the writing's on the wall; Tomorrow this old building will meet the wrecking ball. Like the last living earthling in a world out of time; I'm the sad soul survivor, and dying in my prime. Or like the fallen captain who goes down with his ship; It's time to face the music with a stiff upper lip. I'm the lost squallid squatter; the walls are closing in. The town turned off my water, and all is wearing thin. Like the last ragged soldier, defender of my ground; I wonder where and how now my body will be found. I'm the last angry tenant in a house out of time; Yes I'm serving my sentence that's befitting the crime. Bulldozers they are rolling, jackhammers in the street; A cat jumped out the wndow and landed on his feet.more

Now it's midnight at the crossroads And the moon is always full. Like a creature of the shadows, You yield unto its pull. You're a creature of your habits And a monster on the move. You were bitten by a madness That keeps you in the groove. You have blackouts in the moonlight, And you have your hell to pay; When you're freeze-dried In the frost-white Another midnight Day. You've a monkey on your shoulder That's as horny as a bull; And a werewolf in the closet That's dyed into the wool. It's the living night of phantoms And the howling of the hounds. You're the creature of your habits And prowling dangerous grounds.more

A Synth-driven instrumental of extra-terrestrial communication . . . more