Letters To Stallone

It's a sign of the times, the impression that you made

Glossed over by a wave, a golden lining in your grave

Beneath the dirt its all the same

Last night a saw a thousand faces in a line

And I could not recall a name

And I could not recall a time, when I

I needed someone to move me

Not someone to save me

Just someone to move me

Not someone to

Change things desperately

I think mediocrity is this the key?

I can't I won't be I won't be sitting there now

Break me out let me out

It's a sign of the times, there's nothing to gain

This world was never mine, it's not mine

I let the hive mind consume me

I can feel them all moving, I can feel them all moving

I can feel

Last night I saw a thousand faces in a line

And I could not recall a name

And I could not recall a time, when I

I needed someone to move me

Not someone to save me

Just someone to move me

Not someone to

The perception that does not mean shit to me

I'm not a product of, I'm not a product of my name

The perception that does not mean shit to me

I'm not a product of

I'm not a product of my namethe perception that does not mean shit to me

I'm not a product of you