Opera Singer

I am an opera singer
I stand on painted tape
It tells me where I’m going
And where to throw my cape
I call my co-star's brother
I call my co-star's knave
I play both good and evil parts
I sing to Verdi’s grave
And every single morning
By ten a.m. I’m dressed
My rehearsals last for hours and hours
With dilligence I have been blessed
Some people they call me «monster»
Some people they call me «saint»
My talent feeds my darker side
Yet no one will complain
I am an opera singer
I sing in foreign lands