Who can blame me and arrest me?
Who has half of my story?
my fear and the flower of the skin, Ooh ooh!

On the other side of the mirror
I see different faces
like a piece of luck
and a stand that I can stay

One look and hands in motion
and a number of movements with the mouth
what remains is the old coat and extended
some of it contains chemicals?

Aah aah! ..

You have to miss me, and nothing to say
things are pretty dead for my part
I hung up one or two little pigs, of the history

When the light taste of raspberry is
and the points of the clock change of direction
I see your face mutua
immutable as the seasons

You have to miss me, and nothing to say
things are pretty dead for my part
I hung up one or two little pigs, of the history

All that I fear!
remember that what I am really
is better than writing rough
one, two or three little pigs ...