Yer Circus - Dead Confederate

The trapeze man has fallen

The clowns have gone to bed

Yer' circus turned belly up

Broke its back against its debt

What fools we played to clap hands

For taming tigers tame

Our pulse, applause, adrenaline

For shaking out the names

Names drawn out of empty hats

Sketched lines of dirty faces

When what you see is what you get

Backstage is for the patrons

Leaders spy through soothsayer’s eyes

In dark beyond the tents

All we see, our history

Just vapors from liars' breath

The air we breathe when we retreat

Disbanded on safe vacations

Is ten times removed, to thoughts we will swoon

From truth we expel occupation

It’s our disease, this death will breed

It’s blind asphyxiation