• We run and hide
    Waiting to be found
    By the only person that will understand


    The Mask is on
    Never letting our true self show
    Made up from dreams and hopes
    There stands the Doll
    With her pretty face
    And empty soul


    And while we wait
    We are consumed
    By our own imaginary world
    Until there's nothing left
    But our beautiful Pretense


    We live on and on
    All alone
    Until the pretty face is gone
    Leaving just a
    Broken Doll