MUSIC FOR SALE

Borrowed lights...
Borrowed faces...
Borrowed lives...

Inside these four walls even sunlight finds my face,
But it comes in wearing silver, cold and out of place.
Here the truth lies down beside a dream designed to sell,
While a lie rides through the night like perfume out of hell.
In the glass where I present the woman they adore,
I wear silk ambition stitched to wounds beneath the floor.
Though the eyes that watch me buy the shine I let them see,
There’s a chained ghost in my chest still screaming after me.

I paint spring roses with a winter in my veins,
Sell golden skies while thunder sleeps inside the rain.
They toast the queen that I became without a sound,
But never hear the marble breaking underground.

We are paper dressed like crystal in the light,
Smoke-made ships still sailing through a digital night.
In this life everything is sold through glowing screens,
And the sweetest kind of fiction wears the crown of dreams.
We are fragile even when we play the part,
Window roses with no roots inside the dark.
But when the night arrives and all the signal dies,
The mask breaks open and begins to cry.

Filters on my face, fog settling in my heart,
Likes fall like petals when I’m falling apart.
Empty applause fades faster than perfume,
Yet many kneel before the echo in the room.
I post a smile just to hide a storm at sea,
Renting out my glow and calling it victory.
Everything looks like stars from the frame I show,
But lonely moons still cry where no one goes.

Tell me what it costs to breathe and still be true,
When even tears get edited before they move.
So many souls begging time to let them stay,
While hearts dry out for one more viral wave.

We are paper dressed like crystal in the light,
Birds with broken skies trapped in painted paradise.
In this life everything is sold through glowing screens,
And the sweetest kind of fiction wears the crown of dreams.
We are paper, few of us will say it loud,
Building borrowed kingdoms just to please the crowd.
But the one who finds herself won’t need disguise,
Because a living flame can never be denied.

Borrowed lights...
Borrowed faces...
Borrowed lives...