How many parts can one more play On this living stage of ours? How many costumes for one day? How many lines rehearsed for hours? How many lives can one man lead Before schitzophrenia sells him out? How many scents does a woman need Before sinuses begin to shout? So many faces grin and play, An eternal masquerade ball, How many men can truly say, They know any real folks at all? Who are we? And who can tell? We learn to wear our masks so well.

Written by Samantha Fleet-Lyon (Lola Skywalker)

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