My skull is empty on set.
A studio light casts shadows
In through windows.
Burning an iris as I pirouoette.

Do I want to play this game?

My thoughts have descended
I dread to confess,
Down to drown my heart
To dwindle stars before they start.

Do I want to play this game?

Blame circumstance.
Dance! Dance! In circles dance.
Cram yourself against every puzzle piece
You like to look at.
Crash with foreign bodies
Then regret, you reckless idiot.