The Art Of Killing A Copy Machine
you could never do this
remember who this is to you
i was there when you held the notepad
when you committed it all to memory
only to reproduce at a fraction of the heart
stop singing my songs
stop cheapening my words
you haven't raised a naive foot from your cage
your lack of everything speaks volumes in no words
and now you point every finger at me
that i haven't done my job
you're working overtime with no results
so now i am pointing the fingers
you could never do this
you bite the hand that feeds you
we built before everyone wanted a piece
you could never do this
never