Now they're coming to build
castles of new religious
Long distance to run
to the reign of the sacred solution
He had no snakes to ride,
no rites of eternal salvation
The dream slowly descends,
the day claims its victims
Sad metropolitan clowns
Don't sell your tears, the door is open
In the deep of your life the door is open
He knows...they're coming to build
the cage for his resistance
Son of an Utopian sky,
confused in a land of merchants
He waited for a new romance
while the earth was turning faster
The dream slowly fades,
the day shows its j**els
Last harlequins frontier
Don't sell your smiles, the door is open
In the deep of the night the door is open
"I saw Mrs. Freedom tumbling down
to the market of the needs
She had the void in her eyes
lost on Babylon's sky
To be or not to be? This is the question
To have or not to have? This is the solution
But the lie is a solitary scream,
like a grimace on the mirror,
a doubt driven into the present
Frozen words on the lips,
till the end of the race
I saw Mrs. Freedom burning
on the stake of here conceit
Acrid, sacrificial smoke,
growing around spectres,
Spectres of a buried hope
Spectres of the same prayer
....and my prayer
....and my weak will
....and my wish to escape"
The mad-acrobat of the broken comet
is disappearing on the edge of the night
Over the beating drums of the tribal orgy
he's flying high on eagle's wings
So welcome to the moonlight circus
where somebody will paint his soul
So welcome to the moonlight circus
where the fools and the masters of nothing
will dance
....and we will dance
drunk by a long, irreverent waltz-orgasm.