No wonder if in that huge Diazepam intravenous, which were the first Black Sabbath LPs there was an horror chapter about the Apocalypse and the Judgement Day.
Electric Funeral opens Paranoid’s Side B with a riff that would require a prescription: round figure of wah-wah guitar, slow and autumnal, non-stop falling in a shadow cone of chronic depression fostered by elementary and monotonous rhythm . On this scenario, Ozzy sings with mellifluous perversion of a teenage altar boy reciting the rosary, peering between the skirts of devout in the front row.
Reflex in the sky warn you you're gonna die
Storm coming, you'd better hide from the atomic tide
Flashes in the sky turns houses into sties
Turns people into clay, radiation minds decay
Robot minds of robot slaves Lead Them to atomic rage
plastic flowers, melting sun, fading moon falls upon
Dying world of radiation, victims of mad frustration
Burning globe of oxy'n fire, like electric funeral pyre
Cleared for the masses due to the Doors, the "funeral pyre" here becomes “electric” and closes the verse leading to the instrumental acceleration that, in the middle of the track, shaking off for a while the pharmaceuticals torpor.
Buildings crashing down to cracked ground
Rivers turn to wood, ice melting to flood
Earth lies in death bed, clouds cry water dead
Tearing life away, here's the burning pay
