| Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh |
| Isis is calling |
| La la la la la |
| La la la la la |
| La |
| She lives beside New Brighton |
| Just along from the Golden Beach |
| In a house with a look-out balcony |
| That sees far out of reach |
| Like a queen she sits behind a screen of glass |
| And waits for a wave that’s yet to pass |
| When man and woman might live at last |
| Without misunderstanding |
| And she dreams (And she dreams) |
| And she dreams again |
| And it seems (And it seems) |
| And it seems to me when my eyes open that |
| She’s everywhere you look |
| She’s everywhere you look |
| She sees you |
| She sees me |
| I wonder what she sees |
| She’s this Miss Mystic Mysterious Mystery |
| La la la la la la la la la la la la la |
| La la la |
| He lives up in the mountains |
| On a dew-soaked valley floor |
| In a shed of rough-cut timber |
| With a curtain for a door |
| And he sings and he plays from the Book of Days |
| And the air, it hangs so still |
| And the voices echo back to him |
| From far beyond the hills |
| And he sing |
| La la la la la la la la la la la |
| And he plays |
| He sings in singers everywhere |
| Songs that ring in music everywhere |
| Sing, singer, sing |
| Ring, song, ring |
| Through music everywhere |
| He’s this mystic Mister Mysterious Mystery |
| La la la la la la la la la la la la |
| La la la |
| Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah |
| Isis is calling |
| Ah, ah, ah |
| Ah |