Bosse-De-Nage - Why Am I So Lovely? Because My Master Washes Me. lyrics

At twilight, those who play in the water touch the moon on its waves. In bed, those who lay on the covers hallucinate their existence. A conversation with the slave who fought to save the work from a fire. At midnight, those who play in the dust grasp the wind by its hair. In emptiness, those who die drain their bodies into a bowl left beside the bed. At dawn, the tree that still grows gropes the world with its leaves.