I dream of a man
Along with his rage
Hoping for a happy death
Everything in the world was in reach
But the natural thing

The women come, the women go
Speak of Michelangelo
The women come, the women go
Speak of Michelangelo
The women come, the women go
The women come, the women go

Tattoos rise and dance
On the skin of a full life
Caresses them when he feels low
Immortal images mortally thin

Oh, but for now he sees, he knows, oh
That the kind of life he chose, oh
Would be judged and forgotten forever
And now, and now

Yet, what is he?
A mortal
I dream of a man
Along with his rage
Hoping for a happy death

The women come, the women go
Speak of Michelangelo
The women come, the women go
Speak of Michelangelo
The women come, the women go
The women come, the women go
The women come, the women go
The women come, the women go

Oh, but for now he sees, he knows, oh
That the kind of life he chose, oh
Would be judged and forgotten forever
And now, and now