And you could hear it in her voice, see the sorrow in his eyes
She appears to be so perfect, he's so honest when he lies
It's the only kind of fantasy that pride will contrive
At the cost of everything and just to try to feel alive
And you could hear it in her voice, see the sorrow in his eyes
She appears to be so perfect, he's so honest when he lies
They are the stars inside the tragedy, they've written every line
We are the unsuspecting audience and apparently it's showtime
So she would chase the feeling any way she could
She spoke a broken language that an angel never should
She hoped one day to be the person that she'd always dreamed
And conveyed herself as such by keeping balance on the beam
And it's true desire lying just beneath
A deceitful tongue that only moves when lying through her teeth
A brain so polished, a mouth made of glass
An overdose of recognition in her theatre class
Put it all together, result is a predator
A liar and an editor of truth, a competitor
Of fact, a real solid act
And she behaves with no intention of having to take it back
Until the day I bet that she will finally learn
What it is to be alone, not have a home, and have to earn
A little food for thought, respect based on word
Cause an untrusted throat is better off just not heard
And you could hear it in her voice, see the sorrow in his eyes
She appears to be so perfect, he's so honest when he lies
It's the only kind of fantasy that pride will contrive
At the cost of everything and just to try to feel alive
And you could hear it in her voice, see the sorrow in his eyes
She appears to be so perfect, he's so honest when he lies
They are the stars inside the tragedy, they've written every line
We are the unsuspecting audience and apparently it's showtime
Little magical man, got a magical plan
To keep the entire world inside the palm of his hand
But he did not understand that the world he set his sights on
Was not black and white, but technicolor krylon
And he never held a brush but demanded them to paint
A portrait of himself as an artist on the brink
He poured himself a drink, nothing less than top shelf
His wallet stayed flushed, no doubt to treat himself
He kept his chin above his shoulders just to demonstrate his wealth
A sense of accomplishment with no accomplishments to tell
But you could swear he ran the world, by the way he would try to sell you
On how the things you worked so hard for, were sold, bought and payed for
But the thing he did not know was the second he left the room
His arrogance became our laughter, negativity exhumed
So the true artist, pure of heart could continue
To struggle down this long hard road and finally give you