Clip Your Wings

Angel in the eyes of the few you've fooled But I see right through, see what you truly are A parasite, a leech, won't practice what you preach Had enough of your shit, I'm at the end of my leash Manipulator with a tongue made of silver An infiltrator, whose intentions aren't pure A disease to this thing that we love Guess that means that I'm the cure Liked by few and loved by less Sheep among wolves trying to fit with the rest Got a lot to say, won't say it with your chest The guiltiest are the first to pass the blame Try to cling to a movement as way to mask shame Manipulator with a tongue made of silver An infiltrator whose intentions aren't pure A disease to this thing that we love Guess that means that I'm the cure Clip your wings and bleed you dry Today's the day your true colors come to light