Monday, you're starting your gig
your lips are purple on your sullen cheek
Tuesday, prancing, yellow and gay
your face is radiant though your mind's a fray
Wednesday, pleasing the upper hand
orange smiles with many knives in the sand
Who are you?
such a hypocrite
I've never known you
get out of my sight
What is real and what is fake I ask
You are not you, you are just a mask
Thursday, you're impressing a maid'
you're not blushing yet your face is all red
Friday, already you're running dry
your eyes' are all grey yet you refuse to cry
Saturday, and you're pious white
On your knees you pray, pray that snakes won't bite
Who are you?
such a hypocrite
I've never known you
get out of my sight
What is real and what is fake I ask
You are not you, you are just a mask
So tear it off, before these masquerades crash
waste away the mask and bare the rotting flesh
it eats away your face, and replaces your skin
till you're not you but you're just a mask
Sunday, the canvas void of paint
Take it off now or do it all over again
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