Got a phone call today from Mr. Nice,
He´s often called, once or twice,
He´s on stage in town, asked me to come down,
I was five minutes late, I had to pop by the gate,

I stood at the side, and I listened and I tried,
To imagine the life, that gave him that smile,
"An audience with" it reads on the bill,
A man that made his millions, smuggling for thrills

Master of disguise and masters degrees,
Who´s goal in life, to set what grows free,
I have a drink and a smoke, and some think its a joke
and summon some pain, they can´t take up the strain

And I like stories told, and will ´till I´m old,
All the one´s growing up, are gonna love what we´ve known,
Is it going to fast? am I living in the past?
Do we think anymore? or live behind our closed doors?

There´s something about a man on a stage,
To make you listen and think ´I wanna come back again´
So Mr. Nice stared, it is,
I´m glad you called, I had me a ball.