The Mojave moon was burning, a hollow silver eye I saw a mansion glowing, beneath a bruised and purple sky The heavy wooden gateway was swinging in the heat I left my keys in the ignition, and staggered on my feet Welcome to the Palace of Dust Where the silver mirrors slowly turn to rust Take a velvet chair, let your troubles fall There is a room for you, waiting down the hall The parlor smelled of jasmine, of copper and of wine A hundred hollow faces, all frozen in a line I stumbled for the exit, to find the desert wind But every door I opened, just led right back again I saw the mirrors melting! I saw the painted walls begin to bleed! Can you hear the music? It plays... but there is no band! No band! Welcome to the Palace of Dust Where the silver mirrors slowly turn to rust Take a velvet chair, let your troubles fall There is a room for you, waiting down the hall Take the ride! Take the ride!
