Procol Harum

Your convent-cloistered, cluttered mind
[calls] out for me but i'm behind
You cannot see into your room
Whose perfumed depths sing songs of doom

But i am cold and cannot see
A way out of this mystery

Wild horses couldn't change your mind
Or help you up and let you find
That i am here cold or blind
That i have something left to find

But i am cold and cannot see
A way out of your mystery

An ali baba you would be
In search of treasure endlessly
And like some jewel you'ld comfort me
And in your showcase i would be

But i am cold and cannot see
A way out of your mystery