- cifra
Pieces of a dream
Candied at the seams
Tucked under my arm
As I heard the alarm
Woke up in a daze
Followed by a blaze
Of golden afternoon
So I picked up my spoon
Put it to my lips
Chilled like a blade
Cuts trough my cheek
The price I pay
A little bit closer
Try a bit deeper
Look under the sink
Cause there I am
Filled with plaster
The same fuckin' bastard
I'm the mystery man
So can you guess my color?
More famous than others
Not oak or a wooden hue
But could you guess blue?
Cool like sheets of sand
Wrinkled like my hand
Find it in the sky
Watching us when we die
A little bit closer
Try a bit deeper
Look under the sink
Cause there I am
Filled with plaster
The same fuckin' bastard
I'm the mystery man
Why the gloomy face?
Was it a desgrace?
'Cause I was only joking
The debtes they all will fade
Consider them repaid
Oo lala la
Your stories are so old
They can be untold or sold
Chorus 2x
