There was once an accordion player who didn't go to war.
|
His mother said I know all you wanna do is play but can't you see what's going on?
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
|
And so he stayed and played at home until they burned it down.
|
And when there was no bench to sit on he would just sit on the ground.
|
And when he held his wounded friend in his arms and death was all around.
|
He said,
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
It's not about you anymore,
|
It's not about you anymore.
|
|
Oh Mother, I could die a hero and bring glory to our home.
|
And what would you do in a house full of glory if you had to live there alone,
|
Live there alone,
|
Live there alone,
|
Live there alone,
|
Live there alone
|
So I'd rather play this song.
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing,
|
I want to die playing.
|
|
-----------------
|
Accordion Player
|
Voltaire |