كلمات 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 are good cause i’m not dead yet’ 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 blood stream, runs the story Of a maestro cut 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 are good cause i’m not dead yet’ Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Look at you Maestro all alone and growing old Look at your poor soul 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 What a sight to see He waved away my words In search of something more Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh 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