I have seen your truer face The skin beneath the silk and lace The subtle curve and angle of your hips The paralyzing apathy Blindly looking back at me Echoing the silence on your lips I can fight the gravity The ghost of feeling chasing me I'll leave it on the page and walk away Picked apart and analyzed Polished into clever lines Everything that I could never say To you Darling, I just want to see you fight for something Stand up and hold a little ground Would you rather see a story end in nothing? THROW UP YOUR HANDS! and let the world lead you around Thought outside the reach of will Distant but familiar still The same old pattern panning out again A scene to match the memory In agonizing clarity Standing on the margin looking in Silent, slipping through your hands Anger I can understand The dire consequences of the dream Madness by another name The moth that truly loves the flame Unafraid to stand outside and scream... Darling, I just want to see you fight for something Stand up and hold a little ground Would you rather see a story end in nothing? THROW UP YOUR HANDS! and let the world lead you around That picture stole a tiny piece of you And dragged you back to brighter days It's something way beyond a memory Not worth the effort to explain Far away and free but still you can't let go Bound in by sensation hiding just below Even when you close your eyes you're not alone When what you know just makes you wonder what you don't

This story holds such lovely pictures Woven in diction near divine Dogmatic watercolor fiction The myth and legend of your time Come see how quickly it dissolves Your feint composure cast away See temper sliding to a higher state of disarray Lit up for lack of a better way Burning down Somehow I fail to see the beauty The classic robin hood romance Caught in a shower of burning snowflakes Soldiers in riot gear advance Come see how quickly it dissolves I hear you beg the question but I think you know You slowly built this fire on the times and It will only grow

I’ve got friends that you don’t know And we’ve got madness of our own I think we’re on to something here There’s one you would not understand Cause he’s such an esoteric man Somehow his motives aren’t yet clear So look out (look out) Look out (look out) Look out (look out) here come the freak show now! This trite fashion overgrown This culture you bought as your own Well don’t you wonder where it came from? That fleeting image stretched so far Made you both prisoner and guard You’ll never free yourself from this one So look out (look out) Look out (look out) Look out (look out) here come the freak show now! [A brief monologue by Mr. Horatio "Buzzkill" Johnson]: Quite contrary to the quasi-optimistic mantra of the liberal democratic establishment, casual resistance is a vapid gesture; merely a dead metaphorical allegoric manifestation of the snake eating its own tail. See, all of the good loopholes and conveniently accessible exits have long since been redirected; gormandized, perverted, and paved smooth by a self-embellishing xenophobic totalitarian cultural monolith reflexively seeking to neutralize any outstanding challenges to its own venerated mediocrity. To make matters worse, you’re implicated by association from the very beginning and therefore equally culpable as the greedy cigar-chewing thugs who toil tirelessly behind all manner of curtains to perpetually dull the already blunt business end of this diversionary macabre reality show. Think about it: your slightest actions yield chaotic consequences beyond your wildest comprehension; while simultaneously the entire ambit of your so-called “human experience’ is both directed and facilitated by shadow forces so elemental to the whole charade that you probably wouldn’t notice them even if I did take the time to show you. …and as for the alternatives?...[chuckle]…you’re nowhere near ready for that shit… So look out (look out) Look out (look out) Look out (look out) here come the freak show now!