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 it's all the same

Last night I saw a thousand faces in a line
And I could not recall a name, no, 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
Des-
Perately

I think mediocrity
Is this the key?
I can't
I won't be
I won't be
I won't be sitting there now

Break me out
Misery
I see the dead eyes in the crowd
Feel them all turn at once
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

Last night I saw a thousand faces in a line
And I could not recall a name, no, 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 you crave
From conception to the grave
Does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of
I'm not a product of my name

The perception that you crave
From conception to the grave
Does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of
I'm not a product of my name

The perception that you crave
From conception to the grave
Does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of my name



Credits
Writer(s): Mike Martin, Steven Bradley, John Ganey, Mike Montgomery, Courtney Laplante
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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