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.