Somewhere in deepest
America,
there's a castle on a hill.
Gothic angels and devils of delight
Dark satanic pills to keep
them happy or die
It's a house full of crazy sol diers
Still fighting a war with themselves
Talkin' about the moon and
the stars and the universe
How it's all not really there
It's just a dream, just a dream
Spacey Keech is here to show us how
We can save our souls somehow
He's holding a cross up his nose
As the tears roll down
As the truth is revealed
As the tears roll down
And the truth is revealed
Listen, everyone knows
the moon is rotund.
I've come here to talk
about Colonel Fowles.
What about him?
Major Nannick approached him this morning,
complaining of a strange
and wondrous illness.
And do you know what that heartless
butcher prescribed him?
He said, here, take this.
It's a suicide pill with a mild
laxative side effect.
What do you mean?
But God, if God existed, he's a thing.
More likely a foot.
A giant, all -knowing, all -powerful foot.
I don't belong to the God of
the Wild and Hanged in Argentina.
But I believe in the devil, all right.
You know why?
Because the prick keeps
doing commercials.
Original sin, I give you.
Oh, operator.
Maybe it was something genetic.
Can you prove this?
There are some arguments for reason.
Are those the things we used to justify
dropping atomic bombs on Japan?
I was sure you were, but not today.
Do you understand me?
Multiple personality.
My house has many dimensions.
I am Dr. Franz von Povey.
Why do you do that to me?
Because I'm convinced that
we can walk through walls.
Not only me.