Sunday, July 31, 2011

Ten Thousand Circus Clowns

The show is about to begin. You paint that creepy smile back onto your face
Step out of the dressing room. Take a deep breath
And face the music.

This circus you call life? It's about to suffocate you once again. So you wear a mask
You've done this before. Every day, in fact.
Since you were young.

As soon as the popcorn/peanuts stench fills your nostrils, you wince
There's a crowd, all right. We have a packed audience tonight
Waiting to see you fail.

At least you're the main source of entertainment for thousands of people
You climb into your little clown car, start the engine
Race into the ring.

They won't applaud until you meet some misfortune. That's the name of the game
They stare greedily, hoping for an incident to arise. Then suddenly
Their waiting pays off.

You must please the masses, and you do. Because you were born to please
The crowd is on their feet. Your life is their circus experience
And you just performed.

As the ringmaster plays the band music, you slip softly away. Wipe off the paint
Step out of those ridiculous shoes, and stealthily, leaving the crowds,
You sneak out to me.

Cause even performers have dreams.