Hiding our faces, we choose who we are;
living the lies, stricken so far.
We know not of what is to come-
a lowly burn from a shallow numb.
We dance around this world so dark;
living now these lives embark.
We hide our face with the mask we wear;
afraid of life and unaware,
of the melody life can bring
and the joy of newborn spring.
Why must we hide from ourselves;
be driven into grave delves?
But what do we hide from,
that or less to come?
misery or love or life alone;
as common as it is unknown.
Why must we hide?
If not we feel it inside
from truth of thousand lies;
we hide our souls, our eyes.