Bronze

You're made of bronze

green at the gills

Sleeping over

on hard window sills

counting your kills

making use of your very special skills

time is running out

give me back myself

I'll trade you anything

even the gold ring

I'll trade you anything

All plans of sand

leak through the glass

Telling everyone

you have a mask

they all just laugh

hiding in your hidden space craft

time is running out

give me back myself

I'll trade you anything

even the gold ring

I'll trade you anything