Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I stare at the glass like it holds some truth,
But the man in the mirror feels nothing like youth.
A hollow-eyed ghost in a painted disguise,
A jester of pain with a joke that never dies.

The smile is stitched, the tears run dry,
But behind every grin, there’s a scream in the sky.
Once I knew who I was, or maybe just played the part—
Now I cradle the silence that devours my heart.

[Pre-Chorus]
I wore laughter like armor,
But it rusted with time.
Now I choke on my sorrow
And call it a rhyme.

[Chorus]
I’m the jester of pain in a kingdom of lies,
Dancing alone while my soul slowly dies.
They cheer for the show, blind to my decay,
But I bleed in the shadows at the end of each day.

Torn between silence and one final breath,
I’ve kissed the idea, the cold lips of death.
But I rise one more time, with the weight and the shame,
Still laughing, still crying—the jester of pain.

[Verse 2]
Memories fade like smoke in the frost,
The child I once was—forgotten, lost.
I see him sometimes, behind the cracks,
But he’s buried beneath these panic attacks.

I dance through the fire, blistered and worn,
With confetti made from the dreams I’ve torn.
Every step is a mask, every word a bluff,
I scream in my sleep, but it’s never enough.

[Bridge]
They never saw the rope in my jokes,
The pills in the punchline, the scars in my cloaks.
My laughter's a grave with a velvet veil,
A circus act doomed to silently fail.

I asked the mirror: “Will I ever be free?”
It shattered and whispered, “You’re already me.”
So I gather the shards and carve out a name,
Bleeding my truth as the world stays the same.

[Final Chorus]
I’m the jester of pain in a theater of glass,
Performing my trauma to crowds that won’t ask.
Applause for the mask, for the smile they crave,
While the man underneath digs a personal grave.

But I’m still here, with a joke and a flame,
Learning to love the ruin, not erase the name.
Each laugh is a battle, each breath is a chain,
Yet I live—still standing—the jester of pain.

[Outro]
One foot in the void, one hand on the edge,
A crown made of sorrow, a vow never said.
No hero, no ending, no sweet saving rain—
Just a soul in the mirror...
The jester of pain.