[ 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.