And so it goes, that’s life, cést la vie, they would say
It’s a round and a cycle that ceases to cease
Other than the occasional weekday or reflecting moment
But it’s all alright, you would say
Just because you are happy
So he’s walking down the street and talking to himself
Luckily he’s a good listener and has the same ideals
Singing about creaking doors creaking shut
Telling her to remember who she is and to shut up
Singing in a voice not his own, a ghost to despise!
And its an ugly voice being shown, its host a disguise
Talking with a whisper to the walls and the air
Stinging words with malice and intent, into the air!
Talking in curses with spices of Cynic and Arsenic
Rattling the chains of his illusion and changing characteristic
And it all flows endlessly, coherently, evenly, without a single break in character
You could say this is who he really is, or really was
But it’s not!
And the audience knows, because they wear the same shoes
Brand new but with the colors fading
And the lighter shades shading to a shady grey
Hell, they’re only shoes but he loved them and he knows it
And the audience knows, because they wear the same shoes
It’s a round and a cycle that ceases to cease
Other than the occasional weekday or reflecting moment
But it’s all alright, you would say
Just because you are happy
But I’m sure nobody is listening anyway
And so it goes!
