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The trapeze man has fallen |
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The clowns have gone to bed |
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Yer' circus turned belly up |
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Broke its back against its debt |
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What fools we played to clap hands |
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For taming tigers tame |
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Our pulse, applause, adrenaline |
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For shaking out the names |
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Names drawn out of empty hats |
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Sketched lines of dirty faces |
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When what you see is what you get |
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Backstage is for the patrons |
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Leaders spy through soothsayer's eyes |
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In dark beyond the tents |
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All we see, our history |
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Just vapors from liars' breath |
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The air we breathe when we retreat |
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Disbanded on safe vacations |
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Is ten times removed, to thoughts we will swoon |
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From truth we expel occupation |
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It's our disease, this death will breed |
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It's blind asphyxiation |
