The mime's conceit has conquered over real beauty Grinning from a mask of hollowed bone Where a human is somewhere to be found But where I don't know And things couldn't be better From behind the halls we cannot pass Hear the muffled traces of a boyish laugh Hear the monster screaming "what have I become?" Before his looking-glass And things couldn't be better This is one fine life This is one fine wine This is one fine wife This is one fine lie And things couldn't be better They are the best