The Faux

He owns treasure
In a chest
Always locked up
But I knew where his keys rest

When I opened it up
I found a large book of songs
I learned them one by one
I stole them all

Now I dress up
Like a traveler
Wind beneath my feathers
A character from these Americas
I own no self
And only I know
The grit of my skin

I'm not an honest artist
I'm a fraud in time



Credits
Writer(s): Max Garcia-rubio
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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