His Show
I see everything in your eyes;
The anger, the pain, the hate, the lies.
I see the madness that drives you insane
The madness that drives you to cause me pain
I see your silent suffering, yet how does that excuse
The secrets, the lies, the murder, the abuse
We ask you to get help,
Yet how can you allow someone to say?
That you're anything but perfect,
Anything but as precious as light is to day?
I tell you a secret, one that you don't seem to know
I see through your almost perfect pretend show.