Walkin' into the huge striped tent

What did you expect to see?

Ladies who dance in midair

Men vaulting, falling, flying through space

Ponies trotting with hooves so dainty

Bears who tango with trainers

Fat women with beards

A man who lifts tons

The person who can stretch

Their skin all awry

But who is this creature?

This poor speechless thing?

A child, a child who sits in rags

And sleeps on filthy straw

His only toy a tiny stuffed monkey

With cymbals affixed to each paw

His eyes hold no glow

Of laughter and fun

For he has never met either

And over his face

A sack has been drawn

But soon it is lifted

By the Circus Master

Who echoes the sign above the boy's cage,

"Welcome, ladies and gents,

Welcome to the freak show!"

The shame, the shame, the child claws for his sack

As the crowd laughs, jokes and pokes

And wonders if his face is for real

Hatred arises as he reclaims his own

While the people leave coins

As a thanks for their entertainment

At the expense of his everlasting shame