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