Showman

he used to be free, then he took a dive,
never remembering when he was alive,
the words came so easy,
like butter on his tongue,
but the knife starting walking
down the edge of his arm...

and he's too busy crying to try to care,
his words are so big but so full of air,
these dry tears are falling,
from his one way mirror eyes,
he won't believe the truth
cause he's turned off by the lies,
he's a showman,
even in his death,
its a slow seller,
can't sell sixty-six,
and now he's down three,
sobbing on his knees,
he wants to feel sweet something,
even with no pretties, please,
he's a showman,
dying in his scene...

he's begging for snow, all he got was rain,
yearns to see stars, even though he's spaced,
his blood has turned bitter,
he's a broke down white pill,
he spit up what he swallowed,
(you know, he had to pay the bills...)
he's a showman,
even in his death,
its a slow seller,
can't sell sixty-six,
and now he's down three,
sobbing on his knees,
he wants to feel sweet something,
even with no pretties, please,
he's a showman,
dying in his scene...
he's the showman,
his ruse will make you sick,
its a best seller,
just one last dirty trick,
now he's automated,
so nearly faded,
thinks he's been so clever
while he's just been self-fellating,
he's the showman,
never gonna leave his scene,
just one more show, man,
give those pink kittens one more dream...