Cynic Era

Don’t blink, you’ll miss the moment
They talk, I call it promotion
I don’t chase, I float through motion
Honey, I invented devotion

Step in, lights flick like confession
Every glance? Free lesson
Copy my line, still out of session
You want the crown? Wrong direction

Mirror loves me, you can tell
Gold frame, but the glass won’t sell
They whisper “perfect”, I call it spell
You pray to win, I just excel

I'm not the dream, I'm the déjà vu
Seen this face? Déjà two
Cynic smile, designer cue
I walk, the world adjusts the view

Talk sweet, but your eyes betray
I live rent-free in your brain’s buffet
Say you hate me? Cliché buffet
Still I'm your wallpaper — olé

Bow slow, don’t fake the grace
I rule soft, with a poker face
Cynic era, I set the pace
New religion? Write my case