Our Silly Little Tragedy
What makes me happy?
What an odd little question you ask
I thought life was supposed to be hard
I thought I was supposed to pass by misfortune without any regard
I thought you wanted me to be miserable
But yet, you stand there
Crying and slowly dying
Blubbering out your little quips
Pain and sorrow but little ones upon your lips
And you ask me, what makes me happy?
Well, you asked so I will partake
What makes me happy?
Ah, I know! The sound of…
No, not that…
Too many times the sound of her voice is followed by the crack..
Of my heart…
Oh I know! It’s my…
No, not my art
For it sings and rings of the heart…
Which is prone to fade to black
And is followed by that sickening crack…
I have it now! I know what makes me happy!
I love when...
No, not even then
For the smile that parts ever so thin
Is but a lie, for my love to drown in
What do you think makes me happy?
My family?
My art?
My words?
My lovers?
My lies?
My deceits?
My flaws?
Or the open arms into which I fall
As the weight of it all
Is looking me in the face
Without time or place
But a damming shadow
Of the pain I swallow!
What makes me happy?
The look on your face
As you hear my words
And brave the tirade of my vocal chords
What makes me happy?
This song...
…of our silly little tragedy