Sellin’ their zodiac, burnin’ their horoscope,
sell out Venus just to hit the charts, no joke.
Dream-chasers with ghosts on a playlist so cold,
singin’ to phantoms, one true love left untold.

Frustrated souls, glitter pumpin’ in veins,
grounded on earth, still catchin’ them planes.
Strap wings on a horse, call it Pegasus flex,
centaur homies stuntin’, showin’ off next.

Phoenixes rise when careers turn to ash,
dragons breathe ego, smoke fills the sky in a flash.
Every encore, another try, another fail,
chasin’ the fame on a never-ending trail.

Prayin’ for survival, beggin’ for aid,
But the only real gospel’s the strength that you made.
Time keep slipping you work, then you die,
let your hobbies be wings, lift you into the sky.

Bleed on the strings, let that G-string ring,
One hand, one fight, shake the whole damn thing.
If you love me, respect what you get.
Don’t call me a bug, don’t call me your pet.

Drunk pigs at the VIP aftershow feast,
Cats start to purr, beauty, beast, or beast.
Boys dress like kittens, strut and they play,
Memed and laughed at, but they own the day.

Ascendants win, that’s the story they sell,
Mercury retro drags ’em through literal hell.
Horoscopes break, prophecy bends,
Fame’s a fake trick, climb never ends.

Pegasus, Phoenix, Dragon, Centaur,
Icons we worship from myth to the dance floor.
Power ain’t given by stars or by prayer,
It’s in the bleed of your fingers, guitar strings bare.

Prayin’ for survival, beggin’ for aid,
The only true altar’s belief that you made.
Time keeps leaking, grind now, then fade,
pick up your passion, the songs you have made.

Bleed on the strings, let your prints scream loud,
No third hand needed, you can shake the crowd.
Don’t label me bug, don’t laugh in my face,
I love the honest slow match, fast pace erased.

Ascendants don’t lie… humans do.
Horoscope burns, myth splits in two.
Pegasus wings ripped, but the melody survives,
Don’t call me a bug, if you love me, speak my name alive.