Beckoning Silence

Your silence is beckoning
Drawing us near
There's truth in a silence
Come over here
Tell me your secrets
Tell me your lies
Tell me the reason
Why happy clowns cry...

And put on a show for the people to see
And why people watch them and want to believe
That the illusion is real and not ill-conceived
But they tend to forget that the trick's up their sleeve.

Their lies are as white as the gloves on their hands
But more guilty than innocent from the day it began.