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