The Show

I started sinking;
and all I dreamt of holding on
was you.

We are here.
I didn't expect it to be so cold.
But still.

We're at the show;
you and I.
We're not but we are.

I tried to bring you here,
and you promised to come.
We both lied.

Why?
To keep us happy perhaps;
perhaps we were happy.

Happiness,
its a change, I guess,
of something in my liberties.

Nevermind,
you are here now,
we are here.

It’s time now,
To put on my hats, and my jeans,
and my masks.

And shall we now,
for one last time,
let the show begin?

The show!
Lights, delights, friends and ghosts,
hand in hand, escaping the waking world.

A world of mothers, preachers and others
lost in habits of conjugality.
We sleep, we flee.

Cymbals blast,
pigs fly, trombones blare.
The promise is the same, I know.

Hold on,
we have nowhere to go.
We can stay as long as we wish.

The songs change,
we build our walls.
Higher and higher, till the world’s just a dream.

You wish to dance now?
From within these walls,
and across our spaces?

Ah! So be it.
We dance, we fly,
we swirl and twirl, and swim through space.

And the show slips on,
Visions fade.
Stories die and stories are born.

We’ll never stop now?
Will we?
You won’t leave again, will you?

I don’t want to go,
only to wake up.
Don’t want to want, only to want you.

You can fly,
and I will sing.
And we will sleep, only to dream.