I am the cancer
That blends all its cells
Blurring them beyond recognition

...and possibly maybe I am the Santa
without a sturdy sleigh
whose story is based on a lie
a beautiful lie

Like a child
Waiting to be happy
And facing disappointment
Or coming across...
Learning that clowns
Do have faces of their own

Nothing to hide
Other than what is hideous

My birth is
Next to my death
Sleeping together
Bathing in the moon
and the lies

As long as my road is dim
My lullaby will sustain

'Cause the best has waived its rules
A broader perspective
A Brighter narrative
That is fab
I am that

Like a child
Waiting for the first hole in the soul
And dismembering sweet memories
Or killing time...
Learning that clowns
Do have faces of their own

Just like the old times
Just like the old times