Everyone walks around with a painted face.
They smile like eveything's all right.
But deep inside it's an awful fright.
Letting you see what they think is sutible.
Locking away everything else.
Letting feeling burn their souls,
Until they feel they're charred,
In the pits of hell.
Slowly that face will fall.
The paint will start to chip and fade.
The person will be exposed.
Vunerable to the world.
A cliff will seem like the perfect place to jump.
Because the ocean will wash away,
Whatever paint they have left.