As God's reflection test my pride
It just might be true
I think the clock still exist
Just might be true
That filtered smile
The suburban, that is me
The pilgrim, that is me
I serve the failure that's haunting me
The odor of my apathy
God just forgot to tap my shoulder
I want to be the things I see
I wish I felt something
The pilgrim, that is me
I want to be the things I see
I want to be the things I see
Just might be true
But I know I ain't that free
I woke up today
Who claims to be the one?
Spirits rise and miss the eye
I want to be the things I see
But I know I ain't that free
Can you hear the message
The suburban, that is me
Covered by the stench of judgment
As I wrestle with the clouds?
The suburban, that is me
I'm on the way to succumb
The pilgrim, that is me
Twisted visions torturing
