It’s just costuming–
All this flesh that covers my bones.
You look in my eyes, share my thoughts and laughter,
And know the me beneath it all.

It’s just stage makeup–
All these faces I show the world.
But you see the one that really matters;
It’s you who gets behind the wall.

I traveled here from long ago,
Devil at my back and wind in my face.
The road hurt my head and left me holding
Souvenir memories I longed to erase.

Clouded vision twisting my path,
I wandered under endless blistering skies.
But my feet knew just where I should be
And carried me on toward the prize.

Life isn’t black and white;
Sideshow colors flood my eyes and mind, while
Sleight of hand turns my best intentions
To circus acts for angry crowds.

It’s only funhouse mirrors
That make the dance look deceptively simple.
But you see my missteps, help carry the weight
And raise me high above the clouds.

A ticket you bought years ago:
A front row seat to my high wire act.
No matter how often I stumble and fall,
You never want your money back.

Dress me in a red clown nose,
Put me in tights and a sequined cape,
Watch me traipse round the center ring
And attempt a thrilling escape.

It’s just a sideshow, after all;
Just a hot air balloon ride.
Still my heart and arms are filled with you,
There’s nothing here more real than you.

When I finally stumble offstage–
Face smeared with sweat and greasepaint–
You gather me up, call me a star
And somehow, I believe it’s true. 



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