Look from the hill - volcanoes all around
My feet can feel the slowly crumbling ground
That only grass and fogs could ever bound
And I am still just playing with my ego
See from a hight that everything is bleeding
The sky is falling down held by victims
And slaves are cooking love for masters' feeding
And I am still just playing with my ego
There will be always those who make right choices
And through the lies and moans and all the noises
They will be hearing clear the timeless voices
And I am still just playing with my ego