Taint Beneath The Paint

Face down in the ground at the edge of town
Lays a clown with a frown in his burial shroud
All the laughter
Taken away
Left with only
Tears

Defaced and disgraced
I can taste
The blood mingled with tears
Unjust and undone
I will shun
A world full of fears

The little children
And their lies
LIES! LIES! LIES!
The angry parents
And their cries
DIE! DIE! DIE!

But no bodies will be found
Their bones are not in the ground
This little clown likes fun
After they’re dead in the sun
Snap the limbs when they go stiff
Hear the giggles when skin goes rip
They like a red nose and too big shoes
They stick to me like I’m made of glue

“Clowns are funny, little one
Come with me so we can laugh.”

Screaming and pleading
They’re so sweet
As the tiny tears roll down
While they’re hanging, swinging
In my cellar
Strength leaves
With a gasp of breath

The little children
And their cries
WHY? WHY? WHY?
The angry parents
And their lies
LIES! LIES! LIES!

So now when you see a clown
Broken down at the edge of town
Will you see a laughing saint
Or wonder at the taint beneath the paint