Ghostwrite

I am limbo, waiting on a window

Stuck inside an interval

Knew 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

Only noteworthy for our loyalty

To 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

Traveling salesman

Selling old narratives

True sounds of liberty

Straining through my voice

Only heard an echo

White noise

Once an introvert

Spewing my entire worth

Regurgitating their words from it

Second coming of second strings

Impersonating the real thing

The odd guys that wrote bad songs

The 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

Good night, so long

Scraping the brand 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