Aftershave or make-up wouldn’t hide the little faults

Pull down all the masks and maybe you could find

Our inner vaults – they’re still full of junk

Changing faces every day’s an old human fashion

Putting on the masquerade and hopin’ that it holds

Hidin’ our expression that would fill with a passion

Our inner vaults – they’re still full of funk

Footprints of our darling friends – inside

Hiding in the gloomy dens – inside

And traces of our tenderness, that faded many years ago

Feelings that will never end – inside

I wish I could understand – inside

We all have our secret rooms, it is where I want to go

Stream of empty words is wiping out your pride

But the mystifying story slowly unfolds

Disclosing the stairway that would leads us inside

Our inner vaults – they’re still full of junk

When the front walls of our faces are turnin’ too corny

And we can not tell apart the pepper from the salt

There a place we like to visit early in the morning

Our inner vaults – they’re still full of funk