I'm gonna mix
flashes together with alcohol,
remains of salt
and high doses of fiction.
I have faith, I have the intuition.
I have a king's old throne
and now I'm just a jester.
And a broken mirror on the wall
shatters into a 1,000 pieces
from the skin where I concealed
all that warmth.
And the actress knows well what to do.
She gets undressed and understands who she was.
Today the whore gets dressed...
And I'm gonna think that everything is OK,
everything is OK, everything is OK.
That the poison is the light
and the shadow is my fee.
And despite all, the farce smells of honey.
I mix the nectar with the sting,
which avoids you and it wasn't threaded;
I've already got the role.
And the actress believes it again.
She gets undressed and understands who she was.
Today the whore dresses up as a king...
And the actress plays her role well.
Today the whore dresses up as a king,
today the whore dresses up as a king...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
And nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
And nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...
...and nobody believes him, nobody believes it...