She takes the night train With her bible of dreams A suitcase pretty pink A ca**ette of fresh screams Her treasures decompose Her treasures decay This is the Gospel In the garden of delights Ophelia can pretend To be a priestess or a femme fatale But Ophelia can't escape her shadow A little purse of promises With which to elope A bu*terfly net and a k**ing jar To silence all her hopes Ophelia's shadow Is haunting the humans Ambushed by ghosts And other aspects of her lonely heart This is the Gospel In the garden of delights Ophelia is Joan's, burning body A little purse of promises With which to elope
A bu*terfly net and a k**ing jar To silence all her hopes Can't escape her shadow Nor the givers of advice Or the queue of emotional debts Nor the virtues nor the vice Sowing the seeds Of the never never tree This is the Gospel In the garden of delights Oh Ophelia Come Ophelia Sweet Ophelia Oh Ophelia can't escape her shadow Dancing in their discos Talking down their telephones Eating in their restaurants Visiting their homes Trying on their clothes Wearing their Skin And Bones Ophelia Ophelia Come Ophelia We decompose Ophelia Come Ophelia Lets decay Lets decay Lets decay