We all live in Gothic rooms Live out our dreams in Gothic rooms It's always clean in Gothic rooms It's never ending We have come to sink in Gothic rooms Still on the brink in Gothic rooms And it's hard to think in Gothic rooms Who you're defending But in the day we're holding hands We use in-jokes to make our stand But get depressed by the barren land And the roots of the soil and the buds and the trees And the bills and the dole and the misery And the changing of moods and the state of our blooms In Gothic rooms The children sleep in Gothic rooms Screams in the night in Gothic rooms The gas has filled our Gothic rooms But we're still breathing If I collapse in the night Turn my gun to the West One last desperate strike Against the rich men of zest Who take what they like And fuck the rest So we sit in our rooms With the strange and the scared And the weird and the twisted and the silent And the impaired And a man calls each week to inspect our rooms In Gothic rooms