I am an opera singer
I stand on painted tape
It tells me where Im 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 verdis grave

And every single morning
By 10 am Im 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
Ive sung for kings in europe
And emperors in j__an

And after each performance
People stand around and wait
Just to tell me that they love my voice
Just to tell me that Im great

I am an opera singer
I will sing when youre all dead
I sing the mountains crumbling apart
I sing what cant 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

See also:
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