歌词
I have a copy machine
Not an ordinary copy machine
It could copy your smile, copy her style
Copy his humor and copy our sound
Copy your frowning eyebrows
It’s all about duplicate
Copy is allowed nowadays
Life is nothing but mimic play
One piece of paper don’t mean anything
Until it’s printed with ink, while my copy machine sings to it
Page over page
Printing over printed paint
Leave no blank, until you recognize no more shape
It’s the ink not the paper
It’s the image that matters
But what’s the original color?