Lyrics:

There's the Huns at the gate
They don't look like they're messing.
Why don't you turn your face to the wall
if you find it distressing?
You can shiver in fear:
feel the heat of the moment,
then go ratchet it up in the sun
as a kind of atonement.
You can howl for the moon
with your feet in the water
You can flatten the corn in the rain
with a clergyman's daughter.
And the schlock of the new?
Let's not rise to the bait.
Why should we work with the kind of old fools
who can't recalibrate?

See the King in the Tree!
He's as mad as a bone.
Holy and crazy and horribly sad.
Better just leave him alone
-the King in the Tree.

Gotta get through the day
But it's never that simple.
An epiphany (so they say) is like lancing a pimple.
File it under 'degraded'.
Gets you down if you let it.
All of that wonderful animal grace-
don't let's live to regret it.
It's a classic mistake
bringing water to Venice:
out on the Lido; down on the lake
there's an aura of menace.
Secret words of the world are Engulf and Devour
(why is all this tyrannical shit in the soul of a flower?)

See the King in the Tree!
He's a sign of the times.
Screaming away in the dead of the night
with the tales of his crimes.
The King in the Tree!
He's been up there for days
Eating salad and scaring the birds:
see his untenable ways.
The King in the Tree!

In the tangled tree
sits the mad old king
and the night is dark
and the night is cold.
And he howls with rage
at the rats and crows
and he won't come down
..and he won't come down.