“Show-Stopper”

Nothing can convince me that your love was real

I know better than that now

What a fool I was to be taken in by your deception

But your act was flawless at the time

And I wanted so badly for it to be true

I had a playbill in my hand when we first met

And your name was flooded in lights

I remember you were center stage

And your stage-name was Bunni,

“The Performer Extraordinaire”

I attended all of your shows

And I clapped at every performance

But there came a time when I couldn’t afford to see you anymore

The facade of a human mask you wore had slipped

And the cost of loving you had become too steep

But I remember who you once pretended to be

You even looked like a real person

…but only on the outside

Complete with a conscience, a soul, and a moral sense of responsibility,

All of which would gleam in your eye,

As you’d sit there and lie

And you even had a sense of humor, too

You could laugh at the most delicate hearts breaking

But that’s because you’re an actor, see

And the hearts of men were the stage on which you stood

It was a platform that you danced upon

And you twirled and twirled beneath a hand-painted sky

But now you stand upon the hardened backs of those whom you’ve manipulated

And you gaze into the abyss of empty dreams that lay broken at your feet

You cackle at those who once loved you

And you grind your heel on the lives that you’ve touched

But whose blood will you wash your hands in next,

When the final curtain falls?

And who will make the final cut,

And what will be your roll?

As for me, I’ve learned to read between the lines

And I see the performance for what it is

It was a work of fiction

And you were just an entertainer,

Not to be taken seriously

Your love was nothing more than a stage-prop

And I can see past that illusion now,

Clearer than I ever have before

Every moment we spent together was an act

And what a performance it was

You actually had me in tears

And to think, I applauded you

I even bought into your act

I gave out tickets to that show

But it was nothing more than popcorn entertainment

And I was just a member of the audience

So, which character are you today?

Are you Bunny, or Bunni?

Or are you Kay?

Are you Noel, Miss Lapin, or Mademoiselle?

What kind of game is this that you play?

And what is the point of the story you tell?

I could never decide if you were a comedy or a tragedy

You wore both faces so well

But to Hell with your version of reality,

If this is the fiction you sell

— David Allen

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