Many Masters

The woollen ball rolls and follows a slight slope of the wooden foor I chase it with great pleasure i just cannot help it And as I watch it go, falling, stumbling and climbing I think of my masters I had many masters and sometimes i confuse them with one another The audacious, malicious ball keeps running away out of reach I don't really mind, as i always end up catching it My teeth silently drilling to its soft core Yet for now, i'm still in pursuit, trotting from the living room Warmed by the fire Trotting from the living room, to the busy kitchen Temple of heavenly smells I had many masters And sometimes i confuse them with one another They come and go, they all come and go Cycling trough time again and again Sometimes i remember them, sometimes i don't