[ Verse 1 ]
Brace your broken finger from all the times you shot me down.
Lying now won't cover your guilt-stained hands.
You stabbed me in the back, revealing your shaded lies.
This time, your canvas won't come clean.

[ Chorus ]
Broken frame, black-stained brush from all the
times you concealed your lies,
but still they seep through the lines.
Wake up! You paint a portrait of a lying heart.

[ Verse 2 ]
Tracing the technique to strengthen your ability.
Harsh strokes try to weaken my design.
Scared of failing, you've become what you despise.
This time, your canvas won't come clean.