You play my heart like a harpsichord,
Making me feel things that
I never wanted to feel.

They say that you're a player,
But I'd have to disagree.
I have a sneaking suspicion that
You're actually a puppeteer,
Because I can't move my limbs
When you're not around.

C, c, d -
Clair de Lune in C minor.
Otherwise known as the sound of
The buffoon shedding tears.
When the moonlight comes, I ponder.
Only then, in that moment, do I doubt.

Are your glass eyes empty?
I thought for sure that they sparkled with light.
But even if that was my mind's reflection
I still want you.