I closed my eyes, drew back the curtain
To see for certain what I thought I knew
Far, far away, someone was weeping
But the world was sleeping
Any dream will do
I am the distrubutor of dreams, the bearer of illusions. Sometimes I think it is the only talent I still possess. Such a beautiful thing--I could give them anything, fulfill all their desires, if only they let me. But they fear. I do too, and even I cannot explain why. All of us cling to our faded, battered, painful reality with all our strength, abandoning the beauty that hangs within our grasp. Even I.
I wore my coat with golden lining
Bright colors shining, wonderful and new
And in the east, the dawn was breaking
And the world was waking
Any dream will do
There is pleasure in it that none of them understand. Amiboshi might have, were he still here. He was different, always different. I hide behind my painted face and try to be like them, but I'm not--not really. The pale caricature of Tomo beneath the makeup does not like to look at himself in the mirror, after all. I am stronger in costume. But inside...inside I prefer pleasure to pain, and beauty to darkness. I do not want to be fed by lust and revenge and hate. I just want a part in making the world....I have constructed it, in my own dreams. How beautiful I would make it. I would give them all their dreams, anything they asked for. I would even give Nakago to Soi, if it meant I would see that smile that too seldom flickers across her face, and have it be meant for me. And he would smile too. I don't remember the last time someone smiled at me that was not of my own creation. All anyone does here--including me--is glare. And I dare not show that I may desire more.
A crash of drums, a flash of light
My golden coat flew out of sight
The colors faded into darkness
I was left alone
I want to reach out to someone. It's fear again that prevents me, but potent fear, the kind not abated by merely identifying it. Not all demons can be defeated by calling their name, and not all fears can be faced. Everyone here is as lonely as I am, and just as afraid, and just as wrapped up in their own hurt and hatred. I am not strong enough to reach them, and they would not believe my promises anyway. So I sit here alone at night, staring at my ugly face in the mirror, wishing I were brave enough to make myself another. Another face. Another world. Because I cannot face the world I live in now....
May I return to the beginning
The light is dimming, and the dream is too
The world and I, we are still waiting
Still hesitating
Any dream will do