Masquerade Lyrics

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