It begins with a blessing, it ends with a curse Making life easy by making it worse "My mask is my master", the trumpeter weeps But his voice is so weak, as he speaks from his sleep Saying: "Why, why, why... Why are we sleeping?" People are watching, people who stare Waiting for something that's already there "Tomorrow I'll find it", the trumpeter screams And remembers he's hungry, and drowns in his dreams Saying: "Why, why, why... Why are we sleeping?" My head is a nightclub with glasses and wine The customers dancing or just making time While Daevid is cursing, the customers scream Now everyone's shouting, "Get out of my dream!" Saying: "Why, why, why... Why are we sleeping?"