A solo monologue about a man who feels like a clown in his own life, hiding behind a mask while walls close in. He fears his questions cause rifts, can't name what he's feeling, and oscillates between staying hidden and being forced into the spotlight.
A question, but I won't ask no more. Fear of causing any sudden rift. The curse of controversy, my God-given gift. I should take a war room. I could hide it in the cupboard in my costume. I could fly undercover to my hometown and And what if everybody hates the clown? I'm like a foreigner in my hometown. Entertainer, sir, make the families proud. I will— I will be taking your opinion too seriously. I will wait until the walls cave in and I am left with no choice but to be Everything you look for. I have all the answers now. No outside. Dirt covers the ground. And if I forget, well, I just Take a look around, and I remember how, I remember how, how it felt to be child unaware of the forces that today I wouldn't dare, of what stole my youth, but I refuse to share. It's that very care That doesn't seem fair. The last stride down the street, face only, I feel lighter than ever. You never see me cold like this, so bundle up, the air is freezing, make it past the black doors. Me a little better. I don't want to hear complaints about the weather. I am isolated, ashamed to lift a word. You ask me how I feel, I couldn't find a name for it, and they wouldn't have much time to feel. Wash out emotion like product, slow motion leads to little sale. In my place, energy shoots through my expression. I can make the room uncomfortable with just a couple questions, but I won't ask no more. Fear of causing any sudden riffs, the curse of controversy, my God-given gift. Taking your opinion too seriously. I will wait until the walls cave in and I am left with no choice but to become everything you abhor. How it felt to be a child unaware of the forces hard to name out in the air, of what storm I knew and I refused to share. Is that very fair? That doesn't seem fair. Na strada ao estreito, eis o meu, I feel lighter than air. You never see me cold like this, so bundle up, the air is brisker, make it dance in my tarsneira and fire. I don't wanna hear complaints about the weather. I am isolated and ashamed of it. If you were to ask me how I feel, I couldn't find a name for it. And it wouldn't have much mass appeal. So I shall emote. My product's slow promotion leads to little sale. Mascots off the rails. Energies used through my expression. I can make the room uncomfortable just to gospel question. But I won't ask them for fear of causing any sudden riffs. The curse of controversy, my God-given gift. I should take up more room. I've been hiding in the cupboard in my costume. I've been crawling under the covers till I probably started choking. And now everyone outside can hear the whole thing. I should probably take up just a little bit more space. So I don't go on a full-blown rampage. I should probably start showing my eyes. I will be taking your opinion too seriously. I will wait until the walls cave in and I am left with no choice but to become everything you appoint. Is that Mary Claire at the Disney Fair? Nostra Dau Street, Grace O'Leary. I feel like an elephant. You never see cold like this so bundled up. Controversy, controversy, my God-given gift. And I've been staying in my place with the energy I choose through my expression. I can make the room uncomfortable with just a couple questions, but I won't ask no more fear of causing any sudden raps. The curse of controversy My God-given gift. I should take up more room. I've been hiding in the gutter in my costume. I've been quiet undercover till my coffee started choking. And now everyone outside can hear the whole thing. I just thought we'd take up just a little bit more I'm like a foreigner in my hometown. When they're taking care of me, their families proud. I will learn. I will be taking your opinion too seriously. I will wait until the wall's caving and I am left with no choice.
