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.