They'll steal my mind away, lock it up and throw away the key.
Why can't you see me?
Buy a ticket into the dream, let someone else create the scene and map your life for you.

I stare at you and you stare at me performing in a circus of rage.
We're living in a freakshow, a modern day freakshow.
Who plays the music? Who pulls the strings?
This carnival of chaos rolls on.
We're living in a freakshow, a modern day freakshow.

Why can't you see me?
They'd clip an angels wings, tie it up and charge an entrance fee.
So you can see it.
The final act, the final scene of a dying man's soliloquay:
A final curtain call.