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Letters to Stallone

de iwrestledabearonce

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 its all the same

Last night a saw a thousand faces in a line
And I could not recall a name
And 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 desperately
I think mediocrity is this the key?
I can't I won't be I won't be sitting there now
Break me out 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 them all moving
I can feel

Last night I saw a thousand faces in a line
And I could not recall a name
And 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 does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of, I'm not a product of my name
The perception that does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of
I'm not a product of my namethe perception that does not mean shit to me
I'm not a product of you

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