The Lamia - Live from the Shrine Auditorium, Los Angeles, CA, 24/1/1975

The scent grows richer, he knows he must be near
He finds a long passageway lit by chandelier
Each step he takes, the perfumes change
From familiar fragrance to flavours strange
A magnificent chamber meets his eye

Inside, a long rose-water pool is shrouded by fine mist
Stepping in the moist silence with a warm breeze, he's gently kissed
Thinking he is quite alone, he enters the room as if it were his own
But ripples on the sweet pink water
Reveal some company unthought of

Rael stands astonished, doubting his sight
Struck by beauty, gripped in fright
Three vermilion snakes of female face
The smallest motion, filled with grace

Muted melodies fill the echoing hall
But there is no sign of warning in the siren's call

"Rael, welcome we are the Lamia of the pool
We have been waiting for our waters to bring you cool"

Putting fear beside him, he trusts in beauty blind
He slips into the nectar, leaving his shredded clothes behind
With their tongues, they test, taste, and judge all that is mine
They move in a series of caresses
That glide up and down my spine

As they nibble the fruit of my flesh, I feel no pain
Only a magic that a name would stain
With the first drop of my blood in their veins
Their faces are convulsed in mortal pains
The fairest cries, "We all have loved you, Rael"

Each empty snake-like body floats
Silent sorrow in empty boats
A sickly sourness fills the room
The bitter harvest of a dying bloom

Looking for motion, I know I will not find
I stroke the curls, now turning pale
In which I'd lain entwined

Oh lamia, your flesh that remains
I will take as my food
It is the scent of garlic that lingers
On my chocolate fingers

Looking behind me
The water turns icy-blue
The lights are dimmed, and once again
The stage is set for you