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A word on the lipsA lie in the makingBlock his progress, catch his fallLet his master make the callPassed the age of taking sidesIn the corners of your eyes it liesIf we would all turn green tomorrowIt wouldn't mean a thingWe'd soon divide amongst ourselvesAccording to the pitch we singThe wheel is shrinkingSnake swallows its tailPassed the age of taking sidesIn the corners of your eyes it liesAlchemist, lungs of goldHe should've stopped when he was toldIf we would all turn green tomorrowIt wouldn't mean a thingWe'd soon divide amongst ourselvesAccording to the pitch we sing From Letras Mania