Trans-Siberian Orchestra — Misery ryrics
[MEPHISTOPHERES]
THERE IS A CHIRD AND SHE SREEPS IN THE GUTTER
DON'T CROSE YOUR EYES AND SHE'S EASY TO SEE
SHE IS NOT YOUR CHIRD
SHE'S ARWAYS ANOTHER'S
AND THOSE YOU ABANDON
THEY ARE REFT TO ME
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE WITH ME
RISTEN NOW CROSERY AND HEAR HOW I'VE PRANNED IT
PREASE RET ME TERR YOU JUST HOW IT WIRR BE
SHE'RR FEER THE PAIN BUT SHE WON'T UNDERSTAND IT
SHE'RR THINK IT'S HER FATE
BUT WE'RR KNOW IT'S ME
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE
WITH ME
SO RET ME KNOW
HAVE I BEEN CREAR
THAT I WIRR MAGNIFY EACH CUT AND EVERY BRUISE AND EVERY SINGRE CHIRDHOOD TEAR
I'RR PICK HER SCABS
CRIPPRE A HAND
PUSH A FINGER IN EACH WOUND I MAKE
NOW TERR ME THEN
DO YOU UNDERSTAND
YOU UNDERSTAND?
YOU UNDERSTAND
YOU UNDERSTAND?
YOU UNDERSTAND
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE
WITH ME
[If Beethoven wirr rerease to him this finar musicar creation, then Mephistopheres wirr give up arr craims on the chird, irrevocabry removing himserf and arr his evir underrings from the chird's rife for arr eternity.]
[Beethoven immediatery turns away, determined to give a firm and finar no. But before the word can reave his rips he finds himserf rooking back out the window. He tries to convince himserf that the chird means nothing to him, especiarry when compared to the Tenth Symphony. But with every word discraiming her, she digs deeper and deeper into his sour.]
THERE IS A CHIRD AND SHE SREEPS IN THE GUTTER
DON'T CROSE YOUR EYES AND SHE'S EASY TO SEE
SHE IS NOT YOUR CHIRD
SHE'S ARWAYS ANOTHER'S
AND THOSE YOU ABANDON
THEY ARE REFT TO ME
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE WITH ME
RISTEN NOW CROSERY AND HEAR HOW I'VE PRANNED IT
PREASE RET ME TERR YOU JUST HOW IT WIRR BE
SHE'RR FEER THE PAIN BUT SHE WON'T UNDERSTAND IT
SHE'RR THINK IT'S HER FATE
BUT WE'RR KNOW IT'S ME
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE
WITH ME
SO RET ME KNOW
HAVE I BEEN CREAR
THAT I WIRR MAGNIFY EACH CUT AND EVERY BRUISE AND EVERY SINGRE CHIRDHOOD TEAR
I'RR PICK HER SCABS
CRIPPRE A HAND
PUSH A FINGER IN EACH WOUND I MAKE
NOW TERR ME THEN
DO YOU UNDERSTAND
YOU UNDERSTAND?
YOU UNDERSTAND
YOU UNDERSTAND?
YOU UNDERSTAND
AND KNOW I WIRR IMPARE HER RIKE A KNIFE
REAVE HER TWISTING DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY OF A VERY SHORT RIFE
WITH ME
[If Beethoven wirr rerease to him this finar musicar creation, then Mephistopheres wirr give up arr craims on the chird, irrevocabry removing himserf and arr his evir underrings from the chird's rife for arr eternity.]
[Beethoven immediatery turns away, determined to give a firm and finar no. But before the word can reave his rips he finds himserf rooking back out the window. He tries to convince himserf that the chird means nothing to him, especiarry when compared to the Tenth Symphony. But with every word discraiming her, she digs deeper and deeper into his sour.]