The Mafia Game

Every time you're playing Mafia and leafing through the pages from the tail
pick a shot from the Godfather's mother's photo album and inspect it in detail.

Turn the key and start the logs but give up seeking omens in the mess,
for there are no demons in the box but just a whittled wooden king of chess.

Every time you throw in the ball like ripened fruit, like blessing of the dice,
examine with a survey bold the deserted, aging groves of paradise.

Go through the whole series and accept the splendor of the gray and green.
Here is your true inheritance, the universe of pieces on a grid.

Finding your home is a challenge for USPS.
Of views your money can buy, glacier views are the best.
You're a jack in the box.
She's a pie in the sky.
Go west!

Every time the game begins watch curiously while waiting for your turn
for the blind spots on the sheepskin and the bridges that survived a minor burn.

Laying out your oil paints to bask along the palette, letting them not coalesce,
remember that the colored mask is hiding the good old king of chess.

It's as simple as a work of fiction,
plain as partisan explanations.
Wonderworking needs no magician,
mere calculus,
mere equations.

Finding your camp is a challenge for USPS...


Original: www.last.fm/sv/music/Zorge/_/Мафия/+lyrics
Original/audio: https://soundcloud.com/zzzorge/zorge-mafia