On the eve of a day that's forgotten and fake
As the trees, they await, and clouds anticipate
The start of a day when we put on our face
A mask that portrays that we don't need grace
On the eve of a day that is bigger than us
But we open our eyes, cause we're told that we must
And the trees wave their arms and the clouds try to plead
Desperately yelling, there's something we need
I'm not free, I asked forgiveness three times
Same amount that I denied, I three-time MVP'd this crime
I'm afraid to tell you who I adore
Won't tell you who I'm singing towards
Metaphorically, I'm a whore, and that's denial number four
