Riddles Songtext
von Calimossa

These dark times we ride til we figure it out
The bitter tears we hide while we′re thinking aloud
Thinking allowed
Riddle me a grand scenario
Where we go from here
Very old, the query goes:

He's got four on the floor, starting to crawl
He′s got a bag with luck, spilling a lot
Swap a little by little with his personal growth
Learning to stand on his own precarious toes


Two points of contact
His head in the clouds
The road is gone
He's looking for a path of his own
No matter the way he goes
It's foretold in the book of lives of the rich and poor souls

The Honey Days are over and out
The old man use a cane to hobble around
The big bag that he takes is truly profound
Til the man and the bag are put in the ground

Chill, the man is a mask of many around
The plan was to act and play for a while
Still, the pain he amassed was part of the trial
The flame in his heart could set him afire, chill

The man is a mask of many around
The plan was to act and play for a while
Still, the pain he amassed was part of the trial
The flame in his heart could set him afire, chill