Blue Oyster Cult

They held their heads with laughs of pain
They learned from men whod just refrain
From glancing at a mirrors face
Seven screaming diz-busters
Who lurked behind the rose
Cast iron for a bloodstream
And ice behind their eyes
On each and all those holy nights
When dusters dust becomes the sale
And lucifer the light
The light
Theyre long so long this time of year
When stars be crossed by twirling fear
You dont suppose Id prove surprised
Seven screaming diz-busters
Should go the route and die
Without that warmth theyve learned to crave