You're nothing more than shallow With a tongue lodged in your cheek What is it that you're saying Shrouded in a cloud of smoke You're not coming through The lines are crossed and the static numbs my ears Your turn of phrase rings hollow I can't trust a word you say What are we to do when the last great poet Has thrown down his pen? If you can't move me now then I swear you never will Just going through the motions while the audience is still I can hardly feel the passion that you've stolen from this room You're nothing but a mockery of all I hold so true You've nothing invested, you've got no soul at all I see you for what you really are, you're not fooling anyone A coward in a flashy disguise What are we to do when the last great poet throws down his pen? Who can we turn to for the words we scream right back? Where do we find solace if were never shown the way? What happened to the authors who have something left to say? Look inside yourself, and if you find there's nothing there Be cast into eternal exile miles from here Never to be seen again And don't find your way back Proclaim your pain Bring them to their knees Were making room for those with a clearer vision Let the inspired voice be heard Give us your life Show us something more
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Copy to Clipboard: You're nothing more than shallow With a tongue lodged in your cheek What is it that you're saying Shrouded in a cloud of smoke You're not coming through The lines are crossed and the static numbs my ears Your turn of phrase rings hollow I can't trust a word you say What are we to do when the last great poet Has thrown down his pen? If you can't move me now then I swear you never will Just going through the motions while the audience is still I can hardly feel the passion that you've stolen from this room You're nothing but a mockery of all I hold so true You've nothing invested, you've got no soul at all I see you for what you really are, you're not fooling anyone A coward in a flashy disguise What are we to do when the last great poet throws down his pen? Who can we turn to for the words we scream right back? Where do we find solace if were never shown the way? What happened to the authors who have something left to say? Look inside yourself, and if you find there's nothing there Be cast into eternal exile miles from here Never to be seen again And don't find your way back Proclaim your pain Bring them to their knees Were making room for those with a clearer vision Let the inspired voice be heard Give us your life Show us something more
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