I’ve accepted all of the conditions
Of my role as the fool
because the founder of the conscience
Is the king of something cruel
And we can do shots like cosmonauts
In outer space and leave the world behind
I told you I was sorry if
your fall from grace
Was all my fault this time
I Need to know
If I were yours
I couldn’t be mine again

I began this trip with visions
Of a Shangrala of fuel
But the founder of this vision
Is the Jack of all that’s mute
And we can do shots like cosmonauts
And bombardiers with bandoliers of hope
That cross their hearts and hope to die
With honest eyes
And dignified reproach
I need to know
If I were mine
I couldn’t be yours again

I’ve accepted all of the conditions
Of my role as the fool
because the founder of the conscience
Is the king of something cruel
And we can do shots like cosmonauts
In outer space and leave the world behind
I told you I was sorry if
your fall from grace
Was all my fault this time
I need to know
If I were yours
I couldn’t be mine again