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It's time to take the stage,
don't look for more disguises.
You're plotting something to surprise them,
but the costume won't do.
You're going to change the set again,
the monitor, some jelly,
but these people are here for your life,
and you don't have to give it to them.
It's your handful of simple words,
four brilliant phrases,
you're smoking, drinking beer
and enjoying the ride.
You're going to change the order of the topics
and give away a sad smile,
but these people paid for your life
and you don't have to give it to them.
Kid, you're ready to step into the arena,
the shine and flashes dazzled you;
although, it's clear, you're not from that class.
You have lucid answers to everything,
you say you're a street kid.
Still, you're playing, in your own way,
the same game you criticized...
Kid! You're ready!
Everything is ready, as usual,
now you're going to face it.
You're taking something to hold you up,
a coward trapeze artist.
You're going to tune the instrument again,
ask for help, look aside,
but these people are here for your life
and you don't have to give it to them.
And you don't, and you don't have to give it to them.
And you don't, and you don't...