The circus of the tattered and torn

So now you have seen
Beyond the veil of dreams
You smelled the wounds and touched the scars

Now you have seen
What's hiding underneath
What somehow made us what we are

Now you have seen
This masquerade of freaks
That made you feel alive and whole

Please walk in
The runway and begin
To fool yourself that you are not like us

We're drawn to the weak
The flaws and hopes, so bleak
We seek in others to belong

And though we hide away
In every way we may
To make ourselves more than we really are

We hide humanity
With sexuality
Reflecting someone's rates and tags

We bear conformity
And proudly spit our greed
But only fake performers on this show

A small collection of lies
A display of the memories we hide
Counting the bruises just to see who hurts the most
Dressed in suits and ties
Broken garments with linings made of ice
Fit for the runway on a parade of broken things

An endless parade of broken things

A few tickets now for sale
For those who chase around their tails
Running round and round in circles
Deeply bound to enter in the end
For a simple glimpse or glance
At the circus of the tattered and torn

On and on collecting bruises
For every bad experience
We're hurting more than you

Grab your ticket to watch me suffer
As I'm bleeding dry

Collecting memories
We don't know who we are

Come on, take a seat and just relax
You're right on time
Let your emotions carry you on
So you can leave here with a smile

On and on collecting people
For every one we know
We're feeling more alone

You're just looking for affection
So now we'll start to cry

And now their dreams are shattered
For we earned their trust by pretending to feel their sadness
With words that cut like knives, piercing through layers of excruciating pain
We hide behind promises of growth and glory
Feeding their desires with countless hours of meaningless sex
Feasting on their fear of being lessened and forgotten
The show goes on and on
Never actually trying to fulfill their empty quest for love

Building our stronghold of credentials
Of titles and what we do's
When all we want is to tell them how we feel
What we fear and how we’re hurt
(Never to reach)
Never to reach the self
Unable to feel alive
Craving for just a glimpse
Of something human in you and I