She came tonight from the circus of silenceTo entangle with our companyShe runs in a hurry to get on the stageAnd to hold her breastsShe knows that she is bitter from the years of ChristUnder the mask, who can read her?She is made by the thief of lightWho wants to shake his shoulder aloneTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usOn the stage, the microphones openHer melodies do not make angelsAnd this puts her in the opposite laneTo ruin the new-ripe flowersThis is how she makes her own musicUnder the mask, who can read her?She is made by the thief of lightWho wants to shake his shoulder aloneTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change usTo change us