Stop trying to piggy-back my glory.
Get your own act, your own fucking story.
If you’re so God damn brave,
You’d have found your own way
To add a name to your face,
Without my formula’s grace.

Either you were wrong all along
Or you needed my steps.
But don’t you damn dare paraphrase
The style I wage, the words I say, or the life I take,
Without the heart to say I made you your clay,
I paved you your way,
The way you condemned and laughed upon
When you said I was wrong.

The sign reads the time
Never lying between the line
That you’re walking down.
I will not follow you further,
I won’t participate in the murder
Of other people’s choices
Only to follow them with similarity.
Heartless, credit-less duplication;
No.

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