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Lyrics
Every time he gets on stage
He is allowed to live his own silver age
In real life he is a loser
And what you see is just the mask of a poseur

You sound bombastic
When you play, play and scream
2,3,4!

Should you see his rat face on the street
Make sure you beat fast a retreat
Why don't you vanish from the scene?
Your mouth is made to be a lying machine

When you play your bass, you feel like a king
You're like a V.I.P. on a magazine
At home your wife treats you as a child at school
And you back to be just a fool, fool, fool!

WRITERS

Francesca Spolaor

PUBLISHERS

Lyrics © AUSTRO-MECHANA GMBH, O/B/O DistroKid

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