Comatose

Here today Gone tomorrow What's the flavor Can I borrow? Beg or steal What's the deal? Beats for the money He's not real Who stole by the hand Who stole by the hand Like grains of sand We're blown away A darkening sky We fade away Feeling sorrow Don't mean a thing Fame and fortune Are everything Bite the bullet See the man Feed his EGO (...) No more time You feel the rhyme Afraid to speak The flavor's weak Life is cheap No time to speak Ride the wave No sync to slave --- Comatose - Front Line Assembly