On Artistic Integrity Lyrics - Emilie Autumn

I toe the line of self-indulgence 

Every time I place my pen 

Upon the page and form the words 

I felt but couldn't show 'til then 

And to myself I beg the question 

Why do I thus masquerade 

As one to one and to another 

Someone else? If I, afraid 

Of what the consequence of stating 

Openly my cause might be, 

When I rant and rhyme and reason 

Do I write for them or me? 

I believe there is some merit 

In creating for one's self 

But why place before the public 

What is best left on the shelf? 

Though while I write I do not feel that 

What I pen is mine alone, 

Even this could be misguided 

As are many I have known 

Who swore, poor souls, that they possessed 

The key to man's mysterious fate, 

Succeeded in convincing some, 

But most could tell they did but prate 

On subjects touching something vague 

Which cannot be unproven, or, 

In place of content, speak in tongues 

Yet know not whom they're speaking for. 

No, I am not deluded so; 

I do not feel I represent 

Some force divine, but still I know 

That I shall never be content 

To hold my tongue when I would speak 

Or change my words to suit the hour 

Or pinch a blush upon my cheek 

To feign my joy at love gone sour. 

I do not wish to disappoint 

The faith that others place in me 

To lead the way to brighter days, 

But sometimes dark is all I see. 

I work for good, I toil for hope, 

No one can question my intent 

But even those who listen close 

Can often mistake what I meant. 

My fear, I've come to realize, 

Is mainly this: that I am wrong, 

That my perception is askew, 

That I write shyte and call it song. 

Perhaps I'll always question thus, 

Discount my merits, thoughts, and deeds 

'Tis well, long as I still go forth 

And see where this, my vision, leads. 

Strong is she who knows her mind 

And speaks it though she may not please. 

Fortunate the audience 

That hears such honest thoughts as these.