Applauding ceases when we know your true face,
With everything twisted and put out of place.
Acceptance- all you wanted, but it's overdue.
Seems like consternation's all that's there for you.
Lowly hunchback, what is your name?
You are the center of our cruelest game.
On this stage we act, on this floor we sing,
Here, consuming detest has made you the king.
"King of Fools, why so shy?"
This is merely another passing chide.
"Hasn't anybody told you? These city blocks can't hold you.
Your place is locked away, how can I show you?"
Some of us, we're cruel this way,
Us gypsies and peasants, merchants and knaves.
Some of us, we laugh without class,
We've each a crooked view, like sight through shattered glass.
And your eyes are ashamed, like you're hurting inside.
You're afraid of the townsfolk, and I can see why.
So please hold my hand, beautiful, ugly man,
Dizzy and turning, I'll help you to stand.
You should not pay for what you never did,
Unjustly rejected, unheard of, defected.