Act A mask or veil to hide the pain. What a beautiful show they all put on. Sparkling dresses, expensive suits Cover up the iron chains. And so they dance 'neath blinding lights. To seem the same is to succeed. Reality, a disturbing thing. The crowd arrives to love the lies. For ages now, we've danced the dance Same steps, same song, same stage. It ends in tragedy, as Shakespeare so loved. We can't hope for a chance. And thusly, darling, I depart From this stage of grief and repetition. You can stay, cold comfort yours, Or follow me and my insane heart.
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