Weezer
180426271.gif

The people come and lay down on the ground
They want to hear all the beautiful sounds
Of the organ player

But in the crowd is a bitter young man
He can't accept what the other ones can
That the song is greater than him

Spreading vemon in the crowd
Laughing high horses are loud

The player plays ever furiously
He won't be swayed from the right melody
Because he knows its beauty

The bitter man shoots his arrows of flame
He's got to take out the source of his pain
At the cost of righteous thinking

Casting necromancer spells
Summoning demons from hell

The tones rise up
And spill his cup
He can't defeat this tune

[lead break]

Casting necromancer spells
Summoning demons from hell

Another verse and the melodies rise
A perfect tune doesn't need a disguise
Cause there is no fighting

And nature says what is high and is low
Father Time will reveal what is show
And the bitter man is falling

The tones rise up
And spill his cup
He can't defeat this tune

Another verse and the melodies rise
A perfect tune doesn't need a disguise
Cause there is no fighting

And nature says what is high and is low
Father Time will reveal what is show
And the bitter man is falling

To his knees
On his knees
On his knees
On his knees


Mirror lyrics:

On his knees
On his knees
On his knees
To his knees

And the bitter man is falling
Father Time will reveal what is show
And nature says what is high and is low

Cause there is no fighting
A perfect tune doesn't need a disguise
Another verse and the melodies rise

He can't defeat this tune
And spill his cup
The tones rise up

And the bitter man is falling
Father Time will reveal what is show
And nature says what is high and is low

Cause there is no fighting
A perfect tune doesn't need a disguise
Another verse and the melodies rise

Summoning demons from hell
Casting necromancer spells

[lead break]

He can't defeat this tune
And spill his cup
The tones rise up

Summoning demons from hell
Casting necromancer spells

At the cost of righteous thinking
He's got to take out the source of his pain
The bitter man shoots his arrows of flame

Because he knows its beauty
He won't be swayed from the right melody
The player plays ever furiously

Laughing high horses are loud
Spreading vemon in the crowd

That the song is greater than him
He can't accept what the other ones can
But in the crowd is a bitter young man

Of the organ player
They want to hear all the beautiful sounds
The people come and lay down on the ground


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