Wayfarer - Masquerade Of The Gunslingers

Lyrics to Masquerade Of The Gunslingers by Wayfarer

Decadent, nearly divine. Their shadows dance like velvet moonlight. In the mezzanine above they applaud Transfixed by the dancers, silently awed The sterling attraction - the ballet of the gun Murder in cold blood, as art in motion Masquerade! they rise and they fall. A pirouette, in the cadence of song One mask falls down, another appears. It's not what they see. It is what they believe It is there, at the crux of their judgement, That the fantasy becomes the desire The tragic poem ends as it begun. And the men in the masks in death will live on Awash in gold and velvet, with wandering eyes You feel it burning within you, you're paralyzed Please take my hand, and step into the night The great dionysian facade Is held upon our backs The callous belief in blood elegant Perpetuating from fathers to sons. Spiraling down the grand halls of the dream.