Trace
Trace
Picture you're still set open to fill.
A sponge soaking up creation.
The pattern's the same.
These lyrics now lame.
They're making you beg for cessation.
True, we just want, both your ears.
No all of your money saved.
So sit back and relax.
Are you still there?
Are we too late?
Is your mind shut?
Sectioned off for what they say is popular.
Can you hear me?
Are you still...
I hate this game.
They all sound the same.
How did you fit into those jeans?
Inked up and pierced, that clothing's sure fierce
but under black you're not what you seem.
So, is it hate of success?
Or just pure jealousy.
Either way its a sham.
Are you still there?
Are we too late?
Is your mind shut?
Sectioned off for what they deem is popular
Can you hear me?
Are you still there?
Are you still there?
Are we too late?
Are you still there?