It's a lovely story
Though it ends quite sadly
But frankly I must say

It's the price one's to pay
When they deal with the sky
'Cause if you go insane

Your eyes end up blind and
Your brain's all plummed and dry
Dreams come out of dried plums, which is silly

Men don't come out of dreams, most logically
They come out of big streets
Of houses and their doors

They grow on concrete trees
If you want them to be
Grown biologically

Means you're quite hard to please

Moons want to be a mother

Which is actually strange
Because moon's not alive
Tell me oh silver moon

Am I slightly deranged
For talking to you now?
Aaah, aaah...


Hijo de la luna


And let's suppose hypothetically
That the moon could be one actually
Could it be a mother?

Or should I say "could she"?
Is it male or female?
Behind its final "a"

Is it hiding something
Behind its silver veil?


Moons want to be a mother
Is it a giant womb?
Is it a giant cell?

You can't change what you are
As for you, mister moon,
Please remain in your shell

Up in the sky, aaah...

Hijo de la luna


But I may realize now I've been quite cruel
Wise man changes his mind, so does the fool

But they've got in common
One very simple thing
They do dream after all

It may be a belief
They may be illusions
But one answers their call


Even the moon that's hung there
It is not alive but

Apparently it talks
If you pick up a star
And you wish upon it

You might change what you are
Aaah, aaah...


If you're feeling like it

It's a lovely story

Though it ends quite sadly
Why not change the picture
Give it a new ending

And start it all over