Germs Special

#98: Master Showman

So, what have you got for me, Mr. Man?
What tricks do you have up your sleeve?
What rabbits will you pull from your hat?
I see you brought your wing-tipped shoes
For tonight's dancing,
Your prancing about
As you make such a magical display
Of the absence of your depth,
And shine the spotlight
On the fakery scrawled on your mask.
Pity the ignorant who fall prey to your wiles
While I pity you for holding on
To your self-concocted fallacy.
Take a bow and cherish your applause
While the veil of smoke and gold dust still lingers;
For when the curtain closes,
You return to being just a fool's fool.