I stand on painted tape
It tells me where I'm going
And where to throw my cape
I call my costars "brother"
I call my costars "knave"
I play both good and evil parts
I sing to verdi's grave
And every single morning
By 10 am I'm dressed
My rehearsals last for hours and hours
With diligence I have been blessed
Some people, they call me monster
Some people, they call me saint
My talent feeds my darker side
Yet no one will complain
I am an opera singer
I sing in foreign lands
I've sung for kings in europe
And emperors in japan
And after each performance
People stand around and wait
Just to tell me that they love my voice
Just to tell me that I'm great
I am an opera singer
I will sing when you're all dead
I sing the mountains crumbling apart
I sing what can't be said
I am an opera singer
I sing in foreign lands
Most people seem to know my name
Or at least know who I am
I am an opera singer I stand on painted tape It tells me where I'm going And where to throw my cape I call my costars "brother" I call my costars "knave" I play both good and evil parts I sing to verdi's grave And every single morning By 10 am I'm dressed My rehearsals last for hours and hours With diligence I have been blessed Some people, they call me monster Some people, they call me saint My talent feeds my darker side Yet no one will complain I am an opera singer I sing in foreign lands I've sung for kings in europe And emperors in japan And after each performance People stand around and wait Just to tell me that they love my voice Just to tell me that I'm great I am an opera singer I will sing when you're all dead I sing the mountains crumbling apart I sing what can't be said I am an opera singer I sing in foreign lands Most people seem to know my name Or at least know who I am Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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