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.