Alias - Final Act

chorus:
slipping. watching. talking. leaving.

all eyes on me. performing in irony in more ways than one,
mouth moves when it shouldn't.
i'll do my shuffle for the acceptance of those
who think my mouth should stay closed,
i tried but it couldn't possibly be soft spoken.
imagine me speaking to you with the message you haven't heard in six years.
battered and beaten by those retreating when i break from the norm.
i perform differently than my peers.
i blacken up my eyes to hide the surprise.
the hurt of rejection, infectious since i learned
the wonders of speech reach to the ones who surround.
this time i need their assistance, they kick while i'm down.
clutching at my insides, screaming at the top of my lungs.
they step on my fingers as i grasp the lungs of my life.
laughing at the off-the-wall performance,
i.e. my agony, dragging me down, to where i stoop for them.
a giant surrounded by dwarfs in a circle, but i'm far from a b-boy,
yet my head spins and i'm choking on more than phlegm.
it's a little something called silence
that i refuse to give up for my performance.
gaining me glares and disrespect from the others,
and now it's killing me literally
because i followed the routine of my brothers.
from hence forth, this will never happen again.
eyes pan the crowd to see the evil never ends...

realizing consequences of my actions,
my blood stains on the ground spell out disgrace.
my time for my set has been cut to a fraction,
as i writhe in pain on the ground, i see a grin on every face.

chorus

what, exactly, is it you're laughing at? i'm dying here.
not lying. wishing i could express how i feel.
this is my worst performance ever
and it appears a healthy helping of remorse shall be my last meal.
i see acceptance bears a heavy burden. for me, it's all for nothing.
i refuse to make a noise to them. they never understood me before,
now i'm here on the floor realizing i conformed to be condemned.
i'm savoring the moment of applause, pause.
if i were standing, i would take a bow, wave, and cry.
but instead, i'm searching for a savior
and going back and forth in my head if i should break my silence or die.
i have the crowd in my hand but on the other...
this would be the final act, i should go for broke.
or should i? why would i when i've dismissed the audience
and always viewed their opinion as nothing but a joke.
this is quite a situation, my suit is ruined and i'm losing their attention.
what's my motivation? "silence is golden," so the saying goes,
and my life slips away as my ego receives inflation.

realizing consequences of my actions,
my blood stains on the ground spell out disgrace.
my time for my set has been cut to a fraction,
as i writhe in pain on the ground, i see a grin on every face.

chorus

the curtain's dropping, vision blurred.
absurd to move my mouth, i've never had a turn out such as this.
i've used my last bit of strength to roll over
and cover the disgrace on the ground that i need them to miss.
i'm a starving artist, stuffed with attention that i paid the price for.
i refuse to discuss my salary with you. i changed for you.
now i'm expecting some spare change from you.

chorus