identification wannabe   acting like a robot   manipulated by your idols      when I look at you my soul cries   'cause all I see is a copy of something not real   you do everything to fit into a label   sorry to say, but you are what the world calls a wannabe      manipulation completed   personality erased      in the search of your ID you're getting blind   fooled by the trends and not questioning what's behind   your brain's turned off and you're in confusion   sorry to say, but you're what the world calls a wannabe      no one knows you better than your creator   your true id, to him you're a pearl   give him your life, get true life in return   believe in his scars, through them you'll be whole