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Ghostwrite

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 ingrateI'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 ritualsI 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 itSecond 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 choicesAnd the name they chose for me

And the name chosen for meFinally, 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 longScraping the bread off my forehead

At the speed of nearly dead

I never found what never made

To the sound I've already betrayedIt's the name they chose for me

It's the name they chose for meFollow us for king land ritual

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