So once again about dissumulation.
Is there another topic we could talk about?
May it be love, the friendship or just confidence?
No thanks, cause I’m carring a doubt.
From thousand faces you won’t find one special.
The way of speaking ‚ll always be the same:
It is the set of template smiles and phrases
The real feelings are the poisoned game.
It seems impossible to do not play,
So everyone puts on his mask
It’s always little different anyway,
But we are playing in the perfect cast.
It’s all about the same dissinulation,
That’s covered up in guise of beeing kind.
From hundred people you can choose just one,
Whom you can trust your soul, your pride and mind.
From ten the really perfect smiles nine are the perfect artificial pieces
And it’s too easy to let pass the one sincere.
‚Cause there is always evil mind behind expensive siding,
Afraid to hate when everybody’s watching like they really care.
People dissemble in front of their own eyes,
Refuse to see the real matter.
And making sure of that, grow into their mask,
They dive just deeper in their beeing flattered.
There is no point in judging,
There is no difference between the true and false one.
You can’t make our every single mask –
The second skin has covered everyone.
And even if the shroud falls
You rush to cover up your face.
The equal hypocrite like everybody else
You flow into the vicious circle
And time will never find its former grace.