Letra de Man of a thousand faces

The man of a thousand faces
Sits down at the table
Eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her

He begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone´s steady instruction
To a place of no religion
He´s found a path to her likeness

His words are quiet like stains are
On a tablecloth washed in a river
Stains that are trying to cover
For each other
Or at least blend in with the pattern

Good is better than perfect
Scrub till your fingers are bleeding
And I´m crying for things
I tell others to do without crying

He used to go to his favorite bookstores
And rip out his favorite pages
And stuff ´em into his breast pockets
The moon, to him, was a stranger

And now he sits down at a table
Without anyone´s steady instruction
Begins his quiet ascension
To a place of no religion

He´s found a path to her likeness
He eats a small lump of sugar
Smiles at the moon like he knows her