Cold Dead Reckoning - Ian Anderson

I don’t mean to be a misery, but I have to tell you, tell you straight:

There are zombies in the closet and they’re not prepared, prepared to wait

We are the tribe that eats itself and spits out not a morsel thing

And navigates this desert by our cold dead reckoning

Does anybody have the charts, coordinates or maps--

A hint of a direction to avoid further mishaps?

A throw of dice, a toss of coin decides what Mrs. Luck might bring

As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning

Turmoil, tempest, tall tsunami, haven’t we heard it all before?

Await the Beast to join the feast;

this party is an open door

All are welcome!

All are joined in penitence, if it please the King

While we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning

We placed our trust in sad self-doubting leaders who have led

Led us through the dark to slip amongst the ranks and files of walking dead

Send to us a guiding symbol--tiny bird upon the wing--

As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning

Now, back across the Doggerland: will higher mighty force redeem

The one who dropped the moral compass, failed to fulfill the dream?

Will testimony tarnish and will sticky reputation cling

As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning?

Cheer up, Charlie, brave a smile;

lift your chin and walk the walk

See angels watching over all;

the snake, the dove, the circling hawk

There must be another Eden: future garden of earthly delight

Next time, no fruit;

in birthday suit, walk naked through the heavenly night

As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning