opera_singer peyton 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 051004 ... andru235 wonderful. and ironic; it flows like one of mendelssohn's songs without words. 051129 ... Twitch My dad was an opera singer. He got a scholarship and stuff.. I'm afraid now he's just an English teacher. 051130 what's it to you? who go blather from