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Open it, open it slowly.
Say, what do you see? Tell me, what do you see? ..if there is something?;
a brief and fleeting spring between the hands.
It's time to refine, define in one stroke...
Tune in, regroup pieces...
in my collection of medals and scratches.
He's already here..
Who saw him dancing like a bow on a fan..?
Who would say that without coal there are no wise men...?
There are still vices to perfect on rare days,
we will uncover them in privacy with the tip of our shoe.
He's already here..
Who saw him dancing like a bow on a fan..?
Who would say that without a blank there is no deal..?
The future dressed in the emperor's new clothes.
Who would say that without coal there are no wise men...?
We have many more gifts left to open,
coins that, when turned, reveal a profile.
The cellophane begins... and ends in echo!!!