You were out before the band played your favorite from 
'redo the stacks'. You passed out behind the curtain. 
Clubbing is no way to relax. On another song about 
ordinary days the Aztec God is what they called you 
anyway. Making sense is overrated and difficult. It 
interferes with everything you understand. Can't stand 
that ringing in your ears. On another Saturday at the 
Crystal Chandelier: the Aztec God is what they'll call 
you first. The Aztec God is what they'll call you sir. 
The Aztec God is what they call you when you're here.