The Booth
Big man too high to reach now
See your shadow on its knees and bow
For it has gone mad and full of treachery
Could never fulfill your perfect scenery
Little angel throw down your hate
See your dreamer’s dead yet still awake
Each smile forsaken, each wound multiply
Every spew of blood he’ll testify
Dear old shadow with a cheap wine snore
Feel rotten no more no less to ignore
The game has started don’t bolt away
I will not comment but I cannot stay
Grand Puppeteer with divine strings
Your mannequin imitate each form you brings
So many roles, keep changing clothes
It only craves for the curtains to close
Little Clown with a toothless grin
See yourself being pulled to a blissful sin
Wipe your make up look up in the mirror
Can you divide the victim from the Juror
All this things one’s dare to say
For the confession one’s dare to play
No misconstruction or misconstrue to tag along
Release oneself, compose a new song
Off to see the world
