Tears Of A Clown

The show went on, the curtain's drawn
The circus comes to close,
The lights go dim, no one sees him
Bend down to take the rose.

For one short hour, that trampled flower
Against her skin so fair,
Pinned on her dress, upon her breast,
He wished he'd placed it there.

I understand, held in his hand
Symbol of love so true,
His fate he'd meet, beneath her feet
There crushed, as I am, too.

I took a chance to find romance,
But played the fool again,
Lesson's the same, amour a game
I'm not allowed to win.

A circus clown can't wear a frown,
That's not supposed to be,
A trace of pain must not remain
For anyone to see.

Who's that, you ask, behind the mask
I wear so none will look
Too deeply there at what I bare,
My soul an open book.

I donned with grace my bravest face
And painted on a smile,
It's fine, I lied, my spirit died
As I laughed all the while.

That's how it goes, my perfect rose
Withered but for the thorn,
The crystal vase an empty place
His heart shall not adorn.

Inside my hell, the petals fell
As litter on the ground,
I couldn't be the one that he
Had searched for and then found.

To lose gets old, chin up, I'm told
As if I really could
Erase the fact I somehow lacked,
Could I, I surely would.

Upon the page, a darkened stage
Where dreams are swept away
And roses die before your eye,
To bloom just for the day.

That clown, you see, is just like me,
I pray that someone hears
Our silent cry and comes to dry
Our spilled lemonade tears.