Cicatriz The Mars Volta

Do you recall its name
As it suggested beck and call
This face and heel, oh
Will drag your halo through the mud
Ash of Pompeii
Erupting in a statue's dust
Shrouded in veils
Because these handcuffs hurt to much
Scalping these ticket-less applause
When they drag the lake
There's nothing left, ooh

Well-sutured contusion
Beyond the anthills of the dawning of this plague
I've lost my way
Even if this cul-de-sac did pay
To reach inside a vault whatever be the cost
Sterling clear blackened ice
When they drag the lake
There's nothing left at all

I've defected
I've defected
I've defected
I've defected