Roles That Play the Players

 

That role is playing you, you're not running any show,

You're deep into that character, your role and your ego.

That House of Good and Bad wrote every single line,

Handing you a “yourself,” not even fit for swine.

 

Your child heard the voices, they came with praise and blame,

Those judgmental declarations hooked your mind and staked their claim.

Your pleas of pleasure and pain sounded softer than their bullhorns,

Your innocent self got buried, evermorely you’re forlorn.

 

That role is playing you, you're not running any show,

You're deep into that character, your role and your ego.

That House of Good and Bad wrote every single line,

Handing you a “yourself,” not even fit for swine.

 

Day-Lewis went so deep he forgot he had a face,

But he knew about the camera and he knew about the place.

Yet you never got that memo, no director called your name,

You just woke up inside that role, trading joy for gaining fame.

 

He gets the closing credits, a wrap party, end of run,

He steps back into himself when all the filming's done.

Yet you get the endless curtain calls, same stage for every night,

You’ve no exit and no edit with no end-of-tunnel light.

​

Old Truman hit the wall and said I'm sailing through that door,

Most of us don't know there's life outside of that stage floor.

The stage is built so perfectly to trap your searching mind,

You're staring at the scenery while the real self stays behind.

 

That role is playing you, you're not running any show,

You're deep into that character, your role and your ego.

That House of Good and Bad wrote every single line,

Handing you a “yourself,” not even fit for swine.