[ 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.