The party is over,
all masks are off.
The time to pretend to be what you're not has come to an end.
What do we do after the final dance is over? Remove the mask,
no need to pretend anymore.
It was all make believe wasn't it?
You danced a beautiful dance in the beginning. You moved my heart with your rhythm.
Silly me for joining in, for moving with you, dancing a dance that wasn't meant for me.
I attempted to let you take center stage and it wasn't meant for you.
I should have never let you have my stage
but the mask was so beautiful,
the dance seemed so majestic.
The music was too loud,
the stage was too dark,
I only saw what I wanted.
I danced this dance before, its not my rhythm.
I tried to follow the lead but I seemed to be dancing with an amateur.
This dance wasn't meant for you.
But the mask was so beautiful.
The room was too dark,
I couldn't see the colors fading.
I couldn't tell the beat was off until the the last dance.
All masks are off,
the last dance has been danced.
This masquerade is over.
I see your faded colors, your true self.
My stage wasn't meant for you, your dance wasn't meant for me.
The tears under my mask are all that's invited to my solo after party.