1
The man of a thousand faces
Sits down at the table
Eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her
He begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's steady instruction
To a place with no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
His words are quiet like stains are
On a tablecloth washed in a river
Stains that are trying to cover
For each other
Or at least blend in with the pattern
Good is better than perfect
Scrub till your fingers are bleeding
And I'm crying for things that
I tell others to do without crying
He used to go to his favorite bookstores
And rip out his favorite pages
And stuff 'em into his breast pockets
The moon, to him, was a stranger
Now he sits down at a table
Right next to the window
And begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's steady instruction
To a place with no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
He eats a small lump of sugar
Smiles at the moon like he knows her
Sits down at the table
Eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her
He begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's steady instruction
To a place with no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
His words are quiet like stains are
On a tablecloth washed in a river
Stains that are trying to cover
For each other
Or at least blend in with the pattern
Good is better than perfect
Scrub till your fingers are bleeding
And I'm crying for things that
I tell others to do without crying
He used to go to his favorite bookstores
And rip out his favorite pages
And stuff 'em into his breast pockets
The moon, to him, was a stranger
Now he sits down at a table
Right next to the window
And begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's steady instruction
To a place with no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
He eats a small lump of sugar
Smiles at the moon like he knows her
Lyrics submitted by just_old_light, edited by DDWWW, nickireland7, Alanner, Aether, LianaLizard, dirky, Delira, drmstx94, sodafat, cesium14, LukeUs, Kow
Man of a Thousand Faces Lyrics as written by Regina Spektor
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
I think this song is about a man with a personality disorder, maybe he is schizophrenic- "the man of a thousand faces."
He could also be obsessive, as the lines: "Good is better than perfect, scrub till your fingers are bleeding."
As a schizophrenic can have many personalities, it is suggested here in the song that the man makes a "friendship" with the moon: "And smiles at the moon like he knows her" yet later in the song it says "The moon to him was a stranger"
This song to me is the story of a man with a split personality who struggles to fit in with the rest of the world- "Or at least blend in with the pattern."
<br /> He used to go to his favorite bookstores<br /> And rip out his favorite pages<br /> And stuff 'em into his breast pockets<br /> The moon, to him, was a stranger<br /> <br /> The words "used to" suggest that this was in his past when he would pilfer knowledge, and the reason the moon is included in this stanza and described as a "stranger", is because he knew not of his true self.<br /> <br /> Personally, I believe this is the last song about Karl Projektorinki, while the extra two songs were the epilogue of his love affair from both sides of the argument.