Maestro
He's a hollow man in a dead land
He's a fool with men for change
He's a hot shot, in his high rise
A glass of wine and a lady by his side
The city is drunk on the money he's burnt
Yet, he still prays these whispered words
Of things all good 'cause I'm not dead yet
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
He's a warrior, and a fighter
He's a fool with a twisted smile
In his bloodstream, runs the story
Of a maestro caught loose in the hands of misuse
The city is drunk on the money he's burnt
Yet, he still prays these whispered words
Of things all good 'cause I'm not dead yet
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Look at your maestro, all alone and growing old
Look at your poor soul, oh, all alone in your city of gold
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see, he waved away my words
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see, what a sight to see
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see
he waved away my words in search of something more
What a sight to see
he waved away my words in search of something more
Look at you maestro, all alone and growing old
Look at your poor soul, all alone in your city of gold
Look at you maestro
Look at your poor soul
He's a fool with men for change
He's a hot shot, in his high rise
A glass of wine and a lady by his side
The city is drunk on the money he's burnt
Yet, he still prays these whispered words
Of things all good 'cause I'm not dead yet
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
He's a warrior, and a fighter
He's a fool with a twisted smile
In his bloodstream, runs the story
Of a maestro caught loose in the hands of misuse
The city is drunk on the money he's burnt
Yet, he still prays these whispered words
Of things all good 'cause I'm not dead yet
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh
Look at your maestro, all alone and growing old
Look at your poor soul, oh, all alone in your city of gold
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see, he waved away my words
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see, what a sight to see
All our finery, left in pieces on the floor
What a sight to see
he waved away my words in search of something more
What a sight to see
he waved away my words in search of something more
Look at you maestro, all alone and growing old
Look at your poor soul, all alone in your city of gold
Look at you maestro
Look at your poor soul
Credits
Writer(s): Sarah Elizabeth Close, Matthew William Taylor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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