| Painted parade, a slave to the trade
|
| Can’t sleep in the bed that you’ve made
|
| Daddy was wrong, you could have been strong
|
| But you’ve been alone far too long
|
| You’ll never be pure, yes madam, yes sir
|
| You’ve always obeyed, to be sure
|
| Feet to the fire, they call you a liar
|
| This cannot be what you desire
|
| Council the weak, they think you’re a freak
|
| A future that’s hopelessly bleak
|
| Confused by success, your life is a mess
|
| Yet they can convince you you’re blessed
|
| Don’t come with me, I won’t set you free
|
| 'cause that’s not where you need to be
|
| And no, I’m not confused, although you’re abused
|
| I see it’s this life that you choose
|
| Painted parade, a slave to the trade
|
| Can’t sleep in the bed that you’ve made
|
| Daddy was wrong, you could have been strong
|
| But you’ve been alone far too long
|
| You’ll never be pure, yes madam, yes sir
|
| You’ve always obeyed, to be sure
|
| Feet to the fire, they call you a liar
|
| This cannot be what you want |