Blue faced clowns
With jester hats
Scratching at the door
Looking for flowers and grass and sunshine
But there's a leak and water's on the floor

A gun to the head of a faithful friend
Sometimes they just kill themselves
But if we are what they were
There's order in chaos
And comfort in order
So life marches on
In predictable succession
It all makes sense when they're gone

Then back to the bliss
Behind our brains, pull the curtains
And stop the show
And the sounds and color of black infinity
Silence the narration that rocks the boat