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Melodic stanzasare symphonizing their waythrough your weary headTo feed your distrustAnd fill it's mouth with the desireto soulfully be one with your creationNot a subject to controlyou call upon a higer powerfor help and inspirationThe crowd waitsand turns their facestowards you expectantlyyou give them what they needBut their useless criticismmakes you diea bit more insideNot a subject to controlyou call upon a higer powerfor help and inspirationOh, I swoonwhile loudspeakers play soft musicLeaningover your fourtieth masterpieceYou must have lovedthe colour of these violinsI wish I knew youYour fit of insanity makes me sadI wish you knewyour music was to stay foreverAnd I hope...I have no clueif you know how much it mattersAnd I hope...
Melodic stanzasare symphonizing their waythrough your weary headTo feed your distrustAnd fill it's mouth with the desireto soulfully be one with your creationNot a subject to controlyou call upon a higer powerfor help and inspirationThe crowd waitsand turns their facestowards you expectantlyyou give them what they needBut their useless criticismmakes you diea bit more insideNot a subject to controlyou call upon a higer powerfor help and inspirationOh, I swoonwhile loudspeakers play soft musicLeaningover your fourtieth masterpieceYou must have lovedthe colour of these violinsI wish I knew youYour fit of insanity makes me sadI wish you knewyour music was to stay foreverAnd I hope...I have no clueif you know how much it mattersAnd I hope...