Melodic stanzas Are symphonizing their way Through your weary head To feed your distrust And fill it's mouth with the desire To soulfully be one with your creation Not a subject to control You call upon a higer power For help and inspiration The crowd waits And turns their faces Towards you expectantly You give them what they need But their useless criticism Makes you die A bit more inside Not a subject to control You call upon a higer power For help and inspiration Oh, I swoon While loudspeakers play soft music Leaning Over your fourtieth masterpiece You must have loved
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