Stuck inside an interval
I know it's unattainable
Covered by a label's name
Labeled by geography
On a dying dark horse
Placing
I am a plagiarist
Feeble picking up a pen
Between a sonic precedent
Any age I represent
Old enough to own the store
The noise I make, like an arrogant ingrate
I'm not noteworthy for a loyalty
The forefathers who are redeemed
Most of whom I never revered
Never needed or never even heard
Emulating individuals
Cloning the new originals
Follow us for king land rituals
I am a spokesman for a derivative
Travelling salesman
Selling old narrative
True sounds of liberty
Straining through my voice
Only heard in their code
One noise
Once an introvert
Spewing my entire worth
Regurgitating their words from it
Second coming, a second strings
They're personating the real thing
The odd guys that wrote bad songs
A drug addict's dead and gone
Who wrote the song that sold my voice
Forcing to make 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 overtold joke's punchline
I am limbo, waiting on a window
Resonating old song
You're not so long
Scraping the bread off my forehead
At the speed of nearly dead
I never found what 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 king land ritual
I am limbo, waiting on a window Stuck inside an interval I know it's unattainable Covered by a label's name Labeled by geography On a dying dark horse Placing I am a plagiarist Feeble picking up a pen Between a sonic precedent Any age I represent Old enough to own the store The noise I make, like an arrogant ingrate I'm not noteworthy for a loyalty The forefathers who are redeemed Most of whom I never revered Never needed or never even heard Emulating individuals Cloning the new originals Follow us for king land rituals I am a spokesman for a derivative Travelling salesman Selling old narrative True sounds of liberty Straining through my voice Only heard in their code One noise Once an introvert Spewing my entire worth Regurgitating their words from it Second coming, a second strings They're personating the real thing The odd guys that wrote bad songs A drug addict's dead and gone Who wrote the song that sold my voice Forcing to make 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 overtold joke's punchline I am limbo, waiting on a window Resonating old song You're not so long Scraping the bread off my forehead At the speed of nearly dead I never found what 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 king land ritual Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/b/bad_astronaut/ghostwrite.html
