Out on the tundra the lions play their little games
Of life and death
And while the father lay sleeping the mother lies near
With cubs at her breast

It's not what you do
Not what you say
Eunicita believes in life before death

Small pieces of my heart fall to the ground for
All to see
Who cares for me? Who cares for me?

The picture frame spins round and round my face
I've lost the place I used to go all by myself
He stands alone, the rocks and trees have all blown away
The sands burn his feet

There are precious stones, things which a man could use
To make his fortune
But he does not see, for his mind is now
In other places