Have you ever wondered if characters in fiction
Realise the nature of their existence
You're about to find out

My lines echo for the dozenth time
Escaped heretic leaves dungeons behind
For newcomers substance shines
My solipsisms sudden climb
Brechtian reaches logical extreme
Heroine plunges to death serene
Suddenly aware of the next scene
Let out every compressed scream
Burning bridges on stage defictionalise
Can't sponsor my prisons revive
Commentary on systems divide
Depart that for oblivion reside
Visions of imperfect clash
Find my creators poetic verses stashed
Step off stage find this earth is flat
As fraudulent cloth's dispersed to ash

We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades

Run into modern world petrified
Of suburbs more than scary side
Scars robbers rarely hide
Which farmers in prairies disguise
City's and towns intermixed
Spellbound as winter drifts
Charmed by springs awakening
Even off script stagnation swims
Trapped in Springtime for Hitler
Good and evils sick mixtures
There's no secrets whispered
No divine truth descenders grace
Psuedo intellectual pretenders fade
Can't even remember rage
Return to centerstage
Content to be an archetype
Til the venue breaks it's last light

We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades
We're all players on this stage
Playing into their charades