jealousy. plagiarism.

witness what you’ll miss my friend—
you will never be a part of it
you can’t just react to the fads—
and expect to see the art of it
but you keep repeating the leads—
that never get back to the start of it

would you consider this a victory?
because even hit or miss gets something sweet

apparently you’re granted amnesty
or so you would have me to believe
because all the world’s a page for your and me
and we are merely plagiarists, you see?

oh, put your fingers to the strings
oh, fill your empty lungs with air and sing

your hands are painted red—
with the scarlet of contempt
because you can’t just wake the dead—
without putting someone else to rest
but it won’t be us, you can trust—
oh charlatan, you charlatan
so we move for the proof, the truth—
oh surely you can answer it

oh, put your fingers to the strings
oh, fill your empty lungs with air and sing
if you’ve got dreams to be the king,
this rock crown won’t mean a thing
so fill your empty lungs with air and sing