Within the Silence

I'm sitting with the paradox of image That passers-by don't see the real me Who am I if I am not the sum of what's inside my head Is that always who I want to be? I'm taking time to think about my future The one when I don't end up on a stage Maybe I should hear my own advice about identity Don't find it in your hobbies or your wage Strip me of the platform and the titles Take away my instruments and cut my hair What if why I made a noise was found within the silence Maybe who I am is buried there? Legacy's defined by the beholder Mortal and eternal disagree Followers will only end up scrolling past your funeral And won't put stock in what they cannot see Strip me of the platform and the titles Take away my instruments and cut my hair What if why I made a noise was found within the silence Maybe who I am is buried there? So I'm pinning all I am on upon a poor man One with resurrection in His veins May I be remembered as a man who never lost his soul While dreaming of the world he could have gained Strip me of the platform and the titles Take away my instruments and cut my hair After I'm done making noise and all I am is silence Open up the grave I won't be there