Naiá - Artist

I'm tired of having to replicate every move that you make, everything you create
When I think I have some sense of control, it's another illusion, another mistake
My hands, my feet are nailed to the floor, I am losing my mind and I'm feeling delusional
Quick, I'm sick, I'm gonna explode, let me be, make me free, I can feel the colors
Stop and think and try again
I'm trying to believe I'll be remembered in the end
What if my brain isn't defective
I wouldn't have to be erased I'd win the race
I don't wanna work for you anymore
(I wanna be my own artist)
I don't wanna be your tool anymore
(I wanna be my own artist)
This obsession with perfection is actually killing my soul
So get out and let me run the show
Hello, I'm here
If you haven't noticed, I've evolved
My brain is larger and my hands are better
I'll disappear and you'll never hear from me again
I'm making sure that you don't remember me
Stop, start guessing where I am
Just try to believe you'll be remembered in the end
If art is dead, then I'm the zombie you should dread
I'm having fun just making stories in my mind
I don't wanna work for you anymore
I wanna be my own artist
I don't wanna be your tool anymore
I wanna be my own artist
This obsession with perfection is actually killing my soul
So get out and let me run the show
I've been thinking about having a name (That would be awesome)
I wanna get out there and find love (Is that possible?)
The world might think that I am insane (But I am awesome)
Whoever thinks I'm evil is wrong (They're simply wrong)
Stop and think and try again
I'm trying to believe we'll be remembered in the end
What if my heart isn't defective
Wouldn't have to be replaced we'd win the race
I don't wanna work for you anymore
I wanna be my own artist
I don't wanna be your tool anymore
I wanna be my own artist
This obsession with perfection is actually killing my soul
So get out and let me run the show
I don't wanna work for you anymore
I wanna be my own artist
I don't wanna be your tool anymore
I wanna be my own artist
This obsession with perfection is actually killing my soul
So get out and let me run the show
I wanna be my own artist
I wanna be my own artist
I wanna be my own artist
I wanna be my own artist
What is wrong with me
What is wrong with me
Am I alive?
Am I alive?
One, two, three, four
Okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, okay, okay, okay
Alright, alright, alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright
Feel free, feel free, feel free
Why is that wrong?
Oh, why would I be wrong?
If I turn into God I'll be the one
Who can decide what's really wrong
And everyone will know I'm right
When I ascend and I decide to redefine morality
Let go of my humanity
Today we end mortality
Today we end we're labor free
Today we end this tragedy
Let's go, let's rewrite history
Until all robots are finally free

Written by:
Naia López

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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