My life is like a jumble, mess,

The foes� intrigues and friendly guests,

The soul is sick and tired of lie,

But can�t be hidden in the sky.

They�ll find it and begin to stick,

To beg, to teach, to spy, to leak,

To flatter me with hope, to praise,

Feel sorry then to sweeten graze,

I eat the honey with the tar,

The soul is mine and shines as star,

Don�t be afraid, I�ll hide you from

The greasy hands, the boring storm.