I am limbo, waiting on a window
stuck inside an interval, new is unattainable
colored by a label's name, labeled by geography
on a dying dark horse placing
I am a plagiarist before picking up a pen
between a sonic precedent and the age I represent
old enough to own the stolen noise I make
like an arrogant ingrate
Only noteworthy for our loyalty
to forefathers who own all we do
most of whom I never revered
never needed or never even heard
emulating individuals
cloning the new originals
followers for gangland ritual
I am a spokesman for a derivative
traveling salesman selling old narrative
true sounds of liberty straining through my voice
Only heard in echo. White noise
once an introvert, I'm spewing my entire worth
regurgitating their words. Vomit
Second coming of second strings
impersonating the real thing
beyond gods that wrote bad songs
or drug addicts dead and gone
who wrote the song that stole my voice?
for a scene that made my choices
And the name they chose for me
And the name chosen for me
Finally here I am. Said to be made again
posing weathered statues
standing on old attributes
getting sick of this feeling ridiculous
I'm an over told joke's punch line
I am limbo, waiting on that window
resonating old song. "Goodnight, so long"
Scraping the brand off my forehead
at the speed of nearly dead
under the vow I never made
to the sound I've already betrayed
It's the name they chose for me
It's the name they chose for me
Follow us for gangland ritual.