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Racebannon
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I'm Yr Egomaniac (In the Grips of the Light)
I'm yr egomaniac sittin', shittin' in the windows.
Ceiling fan, conditioner putting this face back on this grin.
This grin made me a fortune while you were outside in the dark looking for the secret to make all yr scare fall off.
Call off the assistor, yr egomaniac standing clear harvesting reputations in the right and left fields.
Building blocks for his tomorrows fortune for the world to share with him if they promise to be the ones uplifting him and gifting him with all their joy.
Now he's laughin', running off forgettin' which world it was he lived in.
Goddamn egomaniacs, they think just 'cause now the spotlights' on they never been the one off forgotten, staring at other people's pictures in the glossy magazines.
But those other people never even knew you were alive so you got yr own fancy prance to captivate their eyes and bring you to the level you have always dreamed of.
And because of yr fear of truth yr sternly projected up onto the big screen.
Green is the color of yr world surroundin' coasts.
He boasts big sales but I don't give a fuck about you.
Yr graffiti's wearing thin.
Yr disguise is falling off.
Still afraid of the mirror, it's clearer to you now more than ever.
The clever tricks you'd try to play have now seen the light of day.
I'm here to expose.
To expose you and me and her and him.
These crimes of self-conceit.
I dropped another dime on the table.
Who's gonna make the call to ensure it all goes through?
You don't need to be afraid of the mirror because now the mirror's afraid of you.
You should be old enough to know that the things on TV are not real.
Yr radio's rotten, all its knobs have fallen off.
The record player skips on the twelfth groove on the first side, the one that made you sound so sincere.
In yr words you overheard someone speaking in the privacy of their own streets.
You just can't meet in the street in private no more, too many snakes all around.
Waiting on yr words so they can be the first to run off and write the down.
Yeah, that's right, I'm yr egomaniac living to the fullest of my glory days but still in many ways jealous of all the people in this building, for they have a better figure than me and a better figure is a better brain or at least the sun will shine brighter on me.
I skid my knees crawling through the dead beats I'm so quick to feel are in my way.
But the dead beats freeze for the camera's grin as if I wasn't fucking there.
Don't they know they're in the presence of an egomaniac?
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Still sittin', spittin' on the ground because I can.
I'm still a man with no future, but I got all that I got to give in a box in the bottom drawer, next to the bed so my head stays nice and large.
I'm accused of bad credit in a land with no sense of time or memory.
But remember me, when you see yr TV stand, flippin' through the channel glossary, don't forget to speak.
Don't forget to speak.
It's just yr average ego-maniac sleeping in the Caribbean sun.
He's got his eye on yr little sister.
Plays/tricks her into falling in love with him for the sake of the just because.
So just because you've seen this done, you try to make off for the fast fresh run.
Yr sister was dumb for falling for his brawn.
But yr absence gave her day a refreshed dawn.
She's all awake in comatose trying to remember where it all went wrong.
The same song her brother sang was the one she refused to hear.
But clear to the ear's young savage ex-ego built beneath the water surrounding this popular year is the secret to sunshine and other bullshit words written down.
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Oh, I'm just an egomaniac.
Can you se the liar just boiling over outside of my mouth?
My clout goes just about as far as the bathroom and an afternoon nap from three to eleven.
Now let's let the day begin with a crashing hammer.
I said the same thingy yesterday and yesterday you didn't fucking listen but you went on ahead anyway and any day now I expect you never to come back.
You said I can't write a poem for shit or a song to save my life, but yr the one driving around everywhere as if you have some place to go.
Calling around everywhere as if you have someone you know expecting anything from you anytime ever.
You never knew that person to begin with, you just happened to be in the background when the picture was taken, with a big ol' smile on yr face.
Why don't you move the fuck out of town and take this little miss ego with you!?
Save everyone the hassle of her confusion and magic wand.
She's spawned of the image as if she's an important state of rock'n roll while you and I know it's a pathetic phase set on stage, overacted to the full knowledge of the audience.
They ought to rinse her of her glory so others can feel the glory too.
But powers and pulls never last so I'll stay moving on alongside the rest of you.
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