I think there’s been a mistake and I’m here to break it to you Some of the things I have said might have been slightly misconstrued You’ve been missing the point Don’t tell me what I came to do Well I hate to disappoint, but I stir it up like witch’s brew Fake! I’m not the one that you want We tend to lose control We drink until we see the sun “You poor, poor soul,”
Poor me? Pour me another one
See what I did there?
I’m all out of fucks to even care
It’s never been anyone other than “we”
Think what you want but that’s just me
Fake! I’m not the one that you want
I know to get where I want I’ll have to climb your stares But when I see the response I know I’m already there Basing opinions on a brief little spouting of words No time taken to discover their true meaning I’ve just been born to be a profit, a profit that makes no cents And when they think my hand took the capital, they’ll spend a lifetime looking for the “Finger Prince”
Twisting words to fit whatever you believe They’ll never take me alive I’ve been cursed with madness Absence without the peace of mind More like a piece of a my mind Good luck deciphering, be sure to tell me what you find And it seems that we phrase At the seams we have frays We are damned to be idols while dammed being idle
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