Epitaph for the Perfect Man 🤧

EPITAPH FOR THE PERFECT MAN [Dark cabaret, horrorcore, female contralto, piano, cello, beatbox] [Intro: bell, footsteps] Please, silence. Today we bury the Perfect Man. The ceremony will be brief. His biography, briefer. [Verse] I knew him well, since my first fantasy: marble profile, stainless morality, wit without cruelty, elegant diction, and no need to win every contradiction. He read between lines, remembered commas, never mistook jealousy for love or drama. When I said “nothing,” he understood silence, without translating it for his convenience. How beautiful he was. Especially as a hypothesis. [Beatbox: bmm-tss-k] Bring velvet. Bring lilies. Bring evidence he ever lived. None? How unpleasantly empirical. [Chorus] Requiem for Mister Perfect, patron saint of women disappointed by facts. He had every virtue I required and only one defect: he never existed. I loved you safely, fiercely, completely. Humans have flaws. You only had me. [Verse] No exes, debts, childhood or mother, no inconvenient opinions whatsoever. I tailored your eyes to my desire, edited your soul in red ink and fire, until you became a man with no man inside. [SFX: knock… knock…] Then came the real ones, embarrassingly three-dimensional. One feared. One failed. One loved me wrong, another loved me well but off-script. How could they compete with a man whose author deleted every error? [Bridge: heartbeat] Tonight I open your coffin. Empty. Of course. Inside: a mirror. [glass crack] I wasn't mourning you. I mourned the woman who preferred a perfect phantom to an imperfect living man. [Final] So rest in peace, my beautiful falsification. Your epitaph: “He was everything I wanted. Therefore, he could be no one.” [bell, final beat: BOOM] HEHEHE HEHE