A Black Mask

Alt Rock/ Art rock

1
You know, sometimes in the dimming light of dusk
Everyone can feel lonely and  sad.
And holding in one hand a smiling black mask,
Wiping the tears with another hand.

Inside the darkest corner of soul
The most hidden fears are talking in quiet voices.
There is always a place and food for them all,
They are fed with wrongly made choices.

Chorus
With time they might slowly decay
In the amber fog of the dawn,
But their talks would certainly stay
And would become a desperate moan.

2
They would come back with the cold and heavy rain
And would settle down in the other corners of soul.
They would start talking again and again
Making more spaces and food for them all.

You could have many of those who would offer support.
They might even bring you hot tea or tell you some jokes.
Despite the sincere eagerness and warm words
Their desperate tries would be ignored.

Chorus
With time they might slowly decay
In the amber fog of the dawn,
But their talks would certainly stay
And would become a desperate moan.