Pass me the key with your tongue
For I'm wrapt in silent chains.
I used to saw women in half
Holding Balloons in my mouth.
Flash me the handkerchief of your youth
For I need the speed of your wrath.
I was once master of terrain
Controlling people from my iron lung.

Unlock the trap door I'm almost done.
For I suffocate in forced solitude.
Pierce my breastplate with your noisy swords
smiling for the watching crowd.
I'm tired of living a life of fraud.
I need from you forgiving words.
The blade was sharp, my tactics, crude.
I know it hurt, but it was all in fun.

Where is the mirth of the circus crowd?
I don't like the sound of a laugh alone.
The spotlight is empty without your eyes
approving me from across the room.
Is it me, or am I half buffoon?
I smile, and sweat to apologize.
The damage can be made undone.
And if it can't, at least...applaud.