Great show better with the fame go-getters
And they make great effort just to say so first
So it’s hey no pressure, hella Glaze, Not Clever
And the days got better, then the days got worse
Take no treasure, so the payload severed
And it lays low centered in the grace of the earth
Ain’t no measure of the place those headed
And they take no letters on the case to converse

It’s a face in the dirt, fruits of her labour
Rooting to save her is useless on paper
Wonder if she made the grade, if she missed it
Or if she simply turned into another statistic
Glazed eyes jaded, people walking out
Hopping jumping dropping out, none of this at all profound
What’s a hope worth when you break it for good
What’s a toaster that’s made out of wood?
No one’s asking how he’s getting on
And gets remembered most now as one of many gone
Any long nights in a row, close to losing it
You couldn’t make a difference by making the pony music, kid
And believe me, I’ve been there, make stuff
Then hear voices singing hosannas for me to wake up
Or better put, exit the fandom in a straight run, and get
Forever haunted by the mantles that I strayed from
Hey, son, feel the knife right here in your chest
You fall in love with it, wait nine years and you’re dead
So better stick it in another in the stoplight glare
You try your best but it’s not quite there

Take past material, and stash it away
Make sure they never hear music like back in the day
Stagger awake, factors remain, cus on the
Internet these faggots keep on blasting your name
Not the first to think talking like Zecora is hot
Or to figure out that flaunting the decorum is not
Haunt the boards he forgot, past playful
Got a map table, need a course to the spot
Of course, it’s a job, gotta bend to the flow
Told friends they’d be seeing him again, but they won’t
Like fans to the show if they followed the bandwagon
Man on his own wants solace he can’t have it
Please don’t remind me, please don’t remember me
Please don’t define me, please don’t pretend to grieve
He broke the rhyming, peeps hopes are evergreen
He goes resigning for deep road, he’s never seen

Another man used to bring the parties in the house
Bump bounce back before Balloon Party was announced
But no one seemed to notice the anterograde signs
So the vids are up but no one can interrogate why
EDM anthems for lost boys
Trap fans now like to diss for a wrong choice
Maybe rewatch, half the memory’s cross-noise
Never back to canonizing hits in an odd voice
But if he ever had regrets he’d probably missed the window
There’s a small crowd now and optionally Sethisto
In small part he’s responsible for this Limbo
But not at all darkened acknowledging all this info
Left for the world, and he’d come with trophies
No more Good Ol Days, not a One Trick Pony
Cutting-edge means every love grows ill
Really gotta ask the man if anybody’s home still
Fortunes in gold don’t bring endorphins or soul
It’s a relationship with fans that we’re sworn to uphold
And it sounds way autistic for a horse to behold
Especially when I turn a hypocrite and forfeit the goal