La-la-la, my master sings a song, Looking triumphant as she speaks the words People say it’s a silly, ordinary song; It’s the tale of our happy times…
All day I’m in a staring contest with my desk, Writing out the sounds in my head Happy things, sad things, detestable things, Painting them all together on sheets of music
Were I in a song, I could go anywhere, I could be anything; Say, to the dark side of the moon, or to the ends of dreams And as I play a melody, for someone I don’t yet know, I know it won’t reach, yet…
Now, it’s time to strain your voice and sing Of loneliness, of warmth, to forget it all But when morning comes, it’ll be as ever See, for another day, the night turns to dawn…
La-la-la, my master sings a song, And little by little, comes to sing less From time to time, she holds me as if in remembrance, Looking satisfied as she speaks the words
“I have nothing more to sing,” I cried on some nights, Yet people gave me praise on joyous others If I could have just one wish, I’d bring things back to then; I’d like to sing a silly song…
Say, to strain your voice and sing, It’s made me tired, if only a little I closed my eyes tight, but just underneath, I couldn’t hold it in; I cried my tears…
If this is what you desire, Then let us celebrate all together Make a toast to new things, Even if I’m not there…
However, master – what do you think? Suddenly she rose; “There are still things precious to me I haven’t yet sung,” And she took me in her hands…
La-la-la, my master sang a song, Looking triumphant as she opened the case…
Now, it’s time to strain your voice and sing Of loneliness, of warmth, to forget it all And when morning comes, it’ll be brand new; Yes, brand new days, and they’ll go on…