All that glitters isn't gold

And all that shimmers isn't diamond

Just because you think you know me,

Doesn't mean you really do.

I can guarantee you that I'm not

The person who you think I am,

Because she doesn’t actually exist.

I’m trapped inside this Masquerade

With a closet full of masks,

So many I don't even remember,

Don't even know, the person who I was,

Or the person who I am.

Sometimes I wonder,

Does gold coated stone,

Ever remember it's still only rock

Underneath of all its fancy glitter?

I have so many gowns,

And so very many masks.

I wish I could peel them all away

And toss them each into an eager flame.

Sometimes I wonder,

Do rhinestones ever wish,

They didn't shimmer quite so much?

I wish I could stop trying

To make life into a Masquerade;

With a different ball every day and,

With a different mask, a different dress,

For each and every single ball.

Sometimes I wonder,

Do diamonds ever wish

They were still simple black coal?

Why can’t I escape this horrible dance

To find the real me?

Sometimes I wonder if

That girl buried deep in the Masquerade

Is really who I am, and

Maybe, there is no one else to find,

But if I am the Masquerade

Does that mean there isn’t really any me?

But I simply must be someone,

Someone who does exist,

I can’t believe in nothingness.

Maybe one day, far away, and many tomorrows,

I’ll find the girl beneath these masks,

And finally escape this wicked Masquerade.


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