Backstreets, core self under covers
A part of me like a ragged jilted lover is
Standing on the edge of a Saturday night
With the radio turned up to half past 9
I'm not sure what I should say to you
As I slip backwards out of the crowded room
No need to leave a mark or my signature
Ephemeral space, a sound unheard
The screen, it screams
Always taskin
Another part of me keeps on asking'
"How will you be remembered?"
By the band, my girl, and my begotten
"What of the world's remainder?"
Man... I want to be forgotten
Don't think and the irony won't hurt
Now give me twenty bucks for my name on a t shirt
Am I a narcissist or do I need to be seen
As you put my goofy mug in another magazine
I need a stiff drink or a hard proverb
About the temporal nature, like a first verse
About where the body goes when we decompose
Become the nutrients in the soil of the earth?
The fiend it screams
Always taskin
There's still a part of me
That keeps on askin
"How will you be remembered?"
By the fam, my girl, and my begotten
"What of the world's remainder?"
Man... I want to be forgotten
"How will you be remembered?"
By the band, my girl, and my begotten
"What of the world's remainder?"
Man...