Many Masters Songtext
von Miët

The woollen ball rolls and follows a slight slope of the wooden foor
I chase it with great pleasure i just cannot help it
And as I watch it go, falling, stumbling and climbing
I think of my masters
I had many masters and sometimes i confuse them with one another
The audacious, malicious ball keeps running away out of reach
I don′t really mind, as i always end up catching it
My teeth silently drilling to its soft core
Yet for now, i'm still in pursuit, trotting from the living room Warmed by the fire
Trotting from the living room, to the busy kitchen
Temple of heavenly smells
I had many masters
And sometimes i confuse them with one another
They come and go, they all come and go
Cycling trough time again and again
Sometimes i remember them, sometimes i don′t