Everything in which you struggle and strive to be only proves that you are something that you cannot be.
You're bringing me down with false words profound,
making me pray for silence, the only golden sound.
Why must I be required to suffer for art when it's something you exclude from the very start?
You're putting me under a microscope.
How will I cope when I know that there is no room to hope?
And you're allowing me access to your family and slamming me,
say this will be the fall of me.
When! ... did you forget that freedom of speech is something I would protect, denying my fruits are in check?
When! ... the words of the brethren, 'cause time and time again I see it put back together again.
When! I had to come to terms that wherever you turn,
some are quick to love and some would rather see you burn.
This is my test of time!
Struggle is something that I'm used to, been abused too,
and it's something that I know to be too true.
And I remain the one to deal with false recognition,
wishing still while you're dismissing.
Now! ... that I agree and you agree that we can never agree, and still you turn and run and I will see.
Now! ... that this is all that you have for your case, you turn in disgrace. Say it too my face!
This is my test of time! Endurance!