Bubbling within, smiling without
Wearing silk of Egypt on all the wounds
Presenting on the stage what I suffer them to see
They read the front stage and say it's me
Only if they'd have a breakthrough of the stage,
Raise the curtains and see what's my make
My audience and fan base would shrink

Singing like a nightingale and mourning like a young widow
Chest out to prove strength and heart buried in woes
With glory smeared on the sorrows
We're taught to be gentle in wrath
So like a star, my role I act
But the conflict between self and script is so sharp
If tears were an ocean, there'd be no shore left
No balm seems the ache to soothe
This is my world, yet they have what I give them