I know why the clown paints his smile on
I know why the jester is the saddest one in the room
I know why the man with the biggest mouth has the smallest feed
We give out what we plead for
Its easier to face plastic eyes than pull the wool from ones own
Its easier to craft a happy face than make one
I will be the comedian in the war room
The comic relief of last rites
The caked face to the atom bomb
The brainless noises to the thoughtful songs
Paint me black and blue if you must do
I am your canvas of execution
Anything to please
A welcome mat of destruction
The shoes don’t fit
Still I will honour them
Put on a happy face
You know you have to
I know why the clown paints his smile on
I know
I know
Sweet symphonies to blind ears
Delicate pictures to deaf eyes