We are in an elegant ballroom,
Surrounded with decadent silks and lace.
Everyone dancing,
Prancing,
At this hypocritical masquerade.
Our hair styled with jewels,
With our golden gilded chaises.
Everyone twirling,
Swirling,
At this hypocritical masquerade.
But with all their talking of peace,
And their stalking about with grace.
Everyone falling,
Stalling,
At this hypocritical masquerade.
We are all poor in life and in spirit,
But we put on a fake face.
Everyone lying,
Dying,
At this hypocritical masquerade.