Masquerade

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Fionn's Hotel

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I couldn't let down my façade, or risk damage to my pride
I must keep in step or risk exposing my weaker side
You hid away what you think I wouldn't approve
I believed myself unworthy and you looking to improve

I couldn't share the upper hand or give up control
For more than one time, you'd danced for too long
I second-guessing wit. You repressing charm
You recoiled optimism back to a familiar calm

We were masking fractures, hiding the evidence
Unwilling to face what lies inside of us
As if devoid of meaning beyond this display
We're escaping what's important with our secret game

While living our lives built on silly lies
Saying "If you show me yours I'll show you mine"
We now contemplate the chance to confide
But our scars are to alarm us of dangerous times

Reminders of the consequences
They are perfect imperfections
Beneath masked performances of ritual theatre
Is beauty in it's prime

We know what the dead are keeping back
From beneath the mold and behind our eyes
As we extends hands across our lines
Dispensing a cloud of butterflies to guide your hand to mine

I shuffle awkwardly,  fading into the corner
Because of my tone, Your enthusiasm now sobered
Both staying in the shallow end, and slowly drifting aside
You pass me a half smile, we both know is goodbye

I relax my guise, accepting the salutation
We return to our corners and explore their limitations
Who was the tailor, who sewed in these protections?
Society, the human makeup, or demons of past rejections?

We were masking fractures hiding the evidence
Unwilling to face what lies inside of us
As if devoid of meaning beyond this display
We're escaping what's important with our secret game

While living our lives built on silly lies
Saying "If you show me yours I'll show you mine"
We now contemplate the chance to confide
But our scars are to alarm us of dangerous times

Reminders of the consequences
They are perfect imperfections
Beneath masked performances of ritual theatre
Is beauty in it's prime

We know what the dead are keeping back
From beneath the mold and behind our eyes
As we extends hands across our lines
Dispensing a cloud of butterflies to guide your hand to mine

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