Music, you lied.
And I fell for it, too.
After all of the things
That your name put me through.
I was young and naïve
And I wanted to dream
That you were magic
As the world made you seem.
What magic I found
In those years to discover,
Like the winter's first snow
Or the kiss of a lover.
What power I had
To become who I was
Without saying "sorry,"
Or "why," or "because."
Whatever I had,
It wasn't to last
Your magic, your shine,
They'd be things of the past.
Soon, you would hardly
Care even to glow
'Cause you weren't for me, Music,
No, you live for the show.
You die for the masses,
You sell yourself dry
So you look authentic
To the hungry man's eye.
You pretend to be passion,
You pretend to be love,
But you're a monster
In a wealthy man's glove.
You betrayed me so well,
Made yourself something real,
And now I've got no way
To tell what I feel.
I hate you for that,
Stealing, breaking my heart,
For painting my passion
And calling it art.
I hate you for giving me
Glimpses and sights
Of freedom at last,
That would all turn to night.
All the liberty that,
At one time seemed a dream,
Was a prison and chains
You thought wouldn't be seen.
For all of your beauty
And your melodies sung,
You've the face of an angel
But a viper's black tongue.
What now will you teach me?
What have you to give?
You're no reason to cry,
You're no reason to live.
So much time, so much life
Have I spent after you
But you aren't and you never
Are anything new.
I loved you because
I thought you were creation,
But I found out you're nothing
But gross imitation.
On this sour note,
Will I write my farewell,
While I still have within me
Some soul left to sell.
