The fire of  the marquis lights
and neon fabric shining bright
dulls the memories of fights unchallenged

Magistrates and concubines
close the door and pull the blinds
in honor of a chain of lies not spoken

Broken it may seem
Its not the dream that really matters
but the noise and all the clatter
makes it real
And when you stop to take a breath
you imagine yourself drowning
under clouds of forced illusion
and confusion that you feel

But the fire of the marquis lights
clears your head and frees your style
Reminding you the chain remains unbroken

And while you’re reaching for the ring
to make your finest offering
You know inside  the lights are just a token