The Impressionist
    (专辑: The Generation Of Danger - 2022)
    
    O' I 
wish I 
knew you; you were already dead!  And if I 
could've, know I 
surely would've  -Already dead  Disasters will blow through a 
second time  Just to make it certain no one somehow dropped behind  And you will form yourself around me  Life falls right into groove  Paint it red  -A child's tracing of the 
shape that was once you   I 
left my honor at the 
desk  Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy  I 
want no reward; I've lost interest in that crowd  It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety  If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down   Retract, withdraw, collect, push out, reform  -The process of creation from my own perspective  And it's hard to make connections  When the 
flesh gets so decrepit  Still, regret is for the 
lonely man  I 
pride myself in all I 
have done  Look how they formed themselves around me!  Life falls right into groove  Paint it red  -A child's tracing of the 
shape that was once you  I 
cut the 
whole and sculpt it into something new  And pure—relaxed—your worthless blood made true  That demands attention!   I'll make it happen 'cause I'm better than you  You're disappointed, but it's only 'cause I'm better than you  I 
suffered, and it made me so much better than you  Now, it's your turn to weep, and it's my turn to rule  Rip you in half because I'm better than you  I 
can build you into greatness or be better than you  I'll eat your dreams just to see what makes me better than you  Now, it's your turn to weep, and it's my turn to rule  I'm freaking out because I'm better than you!  You're disappointed that I'm better than you!  I'm only someone 'cause I'm better than you!  I'll make it happen 'cause I'm better   I 
left my honor at the 
desk  Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy  I 
want no reward; I've lost interest in that crowd  It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety  If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down   I'll make it happen  No in-betweens  You're picture-perfect!   I 
left my honor at the 
desk  Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy  I 
want no reward; I've lost interest in that crowd  It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety  If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down   Retract, withdraw, reform me into something new  And pure—relaxed—my worthless blood made true!  He'll make it happen if he's better than me  Now that would demand attention!