One of these days, I will write something other than my made-up lyrics. It's too bad you can't hear the melody and the piano to them...but you'll have to imagine the somber music and harsh notes.
I'm seeing clown-like faces on the street before me.
It's like a spastic circus under the guise of normalcy.
I'm see flashing lights and neon signs.
It's like herding cattle on a Saturday night.
I'll bleed my name in diamonds; I'll polish my bones.
Spruce myself up so when I fall it's still a show.
My dreams are crashing down, pull the curtain; it's time to run.
Let's the paint the stage red with what's bleeding from my arm.
And all those people who are screaming my name cannot see my pain.
And all those flashes and Cheshire grins are enough to make me insane.
Because in the city lights, I'm just one lonely soul.
And under the neon signs, crawl too many lonely people.
And I can barely stand; I can barely breathe.
What's one person in a city of people just like me?
So I'll dance to the beat of my own drum,
And I'll sing to the notes of my own song.
And I'll dance to the bum-bum-bum-bum-bum.
And when I fall, will someone help me up?