Paper-made parade

The city whispers through the light, A stage designed to feel so right, Faces ready for the show, In an artificial glow. Everyone just wants to shine, Stay perfectly within the line, Smiles they learned to wear so well, A product they can sell. Photos drenched in neon dreams, Lives that fall apart at seams, No one hears a heart that cries Without approval in their eyes. And truth becomes a foreign sound, That doesn’t really fit the crowd, Because in this painted place, Authenticity’s lost . They look around, afraid to be, Anything but what they see, Just following the current flow, To never let their real self show. Oh oh oh… It’s a paper-made parade, Where the outside is the grade And what’s inside just slowly fades. Oh oh oh… Everything must always shine, Even hearts that are not fine, While nobody reads the signs. Oh oh oh… If you’re different, you will fall, In this staged and hollow hall, Where truth is the weakest call. They speak of freedom every day, But fear the words you might convey, If you don’t think just like before, They start to shut the door. All they chase is validation, Broken hearts in conversation, Changing truth to fit the room, Blooming in a digital doom. And the real ones disappear, Pushed aside by silent fear, In a world of plastic roles, And carefully curated souls. Neon lights that feel so cold, Voices trained, rehearsed, controlled, No one dares to be sincere, If it risks the crowd’s frontier. Oh oh oh… It’s a paper-made parade, Where the outside is the grade And what’s inside just slowly fades. Oh oh oh… Everything must always shine, Even hearts that are not fine, While nobody reads the signs. Oh oh oh… If you’re different, you will fall, In this staged and hollow hall, Where truth is the weakest call. Behind the noise, behind the lights, Beyond the endless shallow nights, There’s still someone standing still, Who won’t bend their voice or will. Even if it’s hard to breathe, Even if they want you to leave, There are those who won’t pretend, Won’t just break to fit the end. Oh oh oh… It’s a paper-made parade, Where we run but feel delayed, Not even knowing who we’ve played. Oh oh oh… Everything revolves around Empty echoes, screenbound sound, Where lost identities are found. Oh oh oh… But I’d rather stay unseen, With the few who still mean what they mean, In a world that’s too pristine. “Don’t say what you really think…” “Smile so you can belong…”