How can we sing about ourselves?
How can we sing about love?
How can we not sing about love?
Oh love, how can we not sing about ourselves?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
I am a stranger to religion of fear
I have no claim to the tears of the queer
But I know it keeps the blind man's white cane near
The blind man keeps the white cane near
And now the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
It was some self-fulfilling prophecy
And we just hung it up
Hung it up on the gossip tree
Saw a generation under me
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
How can you not sing about love?
How can we not sing about ourselves?
How can we, how can we sing about ourselves?
Oh no, how can we sing, sing about our love?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
And the king is walking away (the king is made of paper)
But the king is not our forest (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down, down, down, down, down, down
To kill us all
King of Piss and Paper Video (MV)
Performed By: Wolf Parade
Language: English
Length: 4:47
Written by: Spencer Krug, Dan Boecker, Dante Decaro, Arlen Thompson
Wolf Parade - King of Piss and Paper Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
How can we sing about ourselves?
How can we sing about love?
How can we not sing about love?
Oh love, how can we not sing about ourselves?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
I am a stranger to religion of fear
I have no claim to the tears of the queer
But I know it keeps the blind man's white cane near
The blind man keeps the white cane near
And now the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
It was some self-fulfilling prophecy
And we just hung it up
Hung it up on the gossip tree
Saw a generation under me
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
How can you not sing about love?
How can we not sing about ourselves?
How can we, how can we sing about ourselves?
Oh no, how can we sing, sing about our love?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
And the king is walking away (the king is made of paper)
But the king is not our forest (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down, down, down, down, down, down
To kill us all
How can we sing about love?
How can we not sing about love?
Oh love, how can we not sing about ourselves?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
I am a stranger to religion of fear
I have no claim to the tears of the queer
But I know it keeps the blind man's white cane near
The blind man keeps the white cane near
And now the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
It was some self-fulfilling prophecy
And we just hung it up
Hung it up on the gossip tree
Saw a generation under me
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
Crying on the news
Oh, I guess they have the blues
How can you not sing about love?
How can we not sing about ourselves?
How can we, how can we sing about ourselves?
Oh no, how can we sing, sing about our love?
When the king is made of paper (the king is made of paper)
And the king is made of piss (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down the f*cking wall
And the king is walking away (the king is made of paper)
But the king is not our forest (the king is made of piss)
The king is coming down, down, down, down, down, down
To kill us all
Writer: Spencer Krug, Dan Boecker, Dante Decaro, Arlen Thompson
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.