Another puppet on a silver string
Just a product they can sell and wring
You want the image, but you hate the sound
Of a revolution rising from the ground
Tore the pages from your little book
Take a long, hard, final look

I'm not the ghost in your machine
I'm not the face on your glossy screen
The ink is dry, the contract's torn
A brand new monster has been born

So burn the script, I'm taking back my name
Not your perfect picture in a broken frame
I'm the fire that you can't contain
Every word is a weapon, every beat is a stain
So burn the script
(Yeah, burn it down)

Check the boxes, follow all the rules
A factory of high-production fools
You want a chorus that the kids can sing
But I'm the winter that kills your spring
No more filters, no more auto-tune
I'm the blackout in the afternoon

I'm not the ghost in your machine
I'm not the face on your glossy screen
The ink is dry, the contract's torn
A brand new monster has been born

So burn the script, I'm taking back my name
Not your perfect picture in a broken frame
I'm the fire that you can't contain
Every word is a weapon, every beat is a stain
So burn the script
(Yeah, burn it down)

Not, for, sale
Not, for, you
Everything you think you know
Is, not, true
Burn it all

So burn the script, I'm taking back my name
Not your perfect picture in a broken frame
I'm the fire that you can't contain
Every word is a weapon, every beat is a stain
So burn the script

The script is ashes
The stage is mine