A Fairytale Lie
A typical fairytale begins with something as trite
As a banal term known as once upon a time.
Unfortunately, life is often filled with cliches
And we want to live in one every single day.
But we can reenact a story with our own details
For you’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess of this tale.
The ending won’t be the same as the book on their shelves
And they’ll just have to see the outcome for themselves.
The curtains start to reveal the first scene in our book,
While everyone in the audience carefully begins to look.
As they read the first lines of our version of the play,
The movie is performed in their minds without any delay.
They see me as the poor girl cleaning the dirty floor,
Which is only one of my many endless chores,
And they conceive that I want a prince to sweep me off my feet,
But they don’t perceive that this yearning will be deleted.
While I continue to wonder where you have always been,
Here is the part where you can finally come in:
As you wait for me to enter the ballroom,
You’ll see me as the girl in a blue masquerade costume.
As you waltz with me for the rest of the day,
I’ll realize that you just don’t feel the same way,
But will it be too much to ask you to pretend
That you don’t want this to end?
The clock strikes twelve and we all know what this means
And we will soon have to quit acting out all of these scenes.
The audience is watching the ending they’ve been waiting for,
But they’ve never expected that I’d be weeping on the floor.
The curtains are closed before everything fades to black
And our scripts are laid together in a neatly piled stack.
We look at each other to see the truth written on our faces
As our frail paper hearts steadily begin to run races.
We’ve always refused to wear our fragile hearts on our sleeves
For we’ve known the difference between what’s real and make-believe.
We’ve realized that life’s a storybook where we write our own lines,
But the words on these pages of a script are only part of a lie.
As a banal term known as once upon a time.
Unfortunately, life is often filled with cliches
And we want to live in one every single day.
But we can reenact a story with our own details
For you’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess of this tale.
The ending won’t be the same as the book on their shelves
And they’ll just have to see the outcome for themselves.
The curtains start to reveal the first scene in our book,
While everyone in the audience carefully begins to look.
As they read the first lines of our version of the play,
The movie is performed in their minds without any delay.
They see me as the poor girl cleaning the dirty floor,
Which is only one of my many endless chores,
And they conceive that I want a prince to sweep me off my feet,
But they don’t perceive that this yearning will be deleted.
While I continue to wonder where you have always been,
Here is the part where you can finally come in:
As you wait for me to enter the ballroom,
You’ll see me as the girl in a blue masquerade costume.
As you waltz with me for the rest of the day,
I’ll realize that you just don’t feel the same way,
But will it be too much to ask you to pretend
That you don’t want this to end?
The clock strikes twelve and we all know what this means
And we will soon have to quit acting out all of these scenes.
The audience is watching the ending they’ve been waiting for,
But they’ve never expected that I’d be weeping on the floor.
The curtains are closed before everything fades to black
And our scripts are laid together in a neatly piled stack.
We look at each other to see the truth written on our faces
As our frail paper hearts steadily begin to run races.
We’ve always refused to wear our fragile hearts on our sleeves
For we’ve known the difference between what’s real and make-believe.
We’ve realized that life’s a storybook where we write our own lines,
But the words on these pages of a script are only part of a lie.