You have often seen me laughing; my mask has made you laugh...
There’s a world beneath the paint, under those lines, behind the scarf
Do I sell laughter? Well… don’t you buy it from me?
Do I bring out the child in you or do you for yourself see?
When teardrops blob the blue of my eyes and pain scars my red nose,
My tap dance and juggling entertain you and you pay for my shows
When the stage is wrapped up and you go home, leaving half-eaten popcorn...
I sigh and smile and laugh, the stage spheres me in and my art is worn
In the silence of the twilight, my laughter shoots spears...
What dry up in my face paint are reminiscences of your tears.
