[Verse 1]

Blacking out from white light. All is grey in hindsight

Colours of the zeitgeist –pen and pad defines time

Looms in the loops thinking maybe he might write

‘Instead of righting wrongs; the mic is on the limelight’

Wrapped in rays. Blankest face at the soirée

Eyes lit alone penning everything he can’t say

The reflection granted entry to the furnace

Saw the token bones in a broken home – unfurnished

Overdosed on sober tones… and in earnest

I been working. At least I’m feeling like it anyways

Toys out the pram. Voices echoing; ‘for heaven’s sake.’

Featherweight benevolent weapon setting to detonate

N wreck the place with sarcasm and the tainted wit

He paints on his alias quick. The same as this

Paced it now the jaded kid spits pink pigments

Tongue tied. Now we know why they told him to shrink figments