This world ain't a wasteland
It just taste that way some times
It depends on the angle
On how you read your lines

For every brick we stack to come together to build
There's a sick little crack in this foundation still
Humans! I can't accept them
Trying to understand them
And what fuels them and their essence
I'm looking for some leverage
Catch up, trying to catch me
Curse-ed, depress-ed
Here to make you happy

"Hey daddy tell me why the clown is crying."
"Well son he's got the task of cheering up the ill and dying
On top of that everybody thinks that he's insane
Can't fathom why he'd wanna ease their pain."

Walking through this maze made of concrete walls
When you're not allowed to climb there's no way to possibly fall
When your hands are restricted to hold nothing but self
How can you get a grip?
How can you pick up what you're dealt?

The clown stays sad
The ground stays hard
With a couple pounds of migraine, a pocket full of scars
But the face stays painted on for everyone to gaze upon
Continuing the bad dream till he wakes up gone

Chorus--two voices intertwined

One for a walk, but always stood
Would you help him, if you could

One for a walk, but always stood
Would you help him, if you could

One for a walk, but always stood
Would you help him, if you could

One for a walk, but always stood
Would you help him, if you could

Do they see me?
Do they know that I exist?
I know they do
I can tell by the way they wave their fists

Weirdo. Freak
Words of endearment ring in my ears
And cling onto my tears

My purpose on this earth was to brighten the sun ray
At the circus or parade, house call on a birthday
A bag of balloons, I can build you a farm
Became worthless when they took away both of my arms

Snake charms
Magic tricks
The world is flat
And the traffic is thick

Got my back to the wind as I watch the inhabitants
Every thought I come across is bigger than this planet is
I used to be a normal person
But I held a hunger to experience it firsthand
I wanted to turn every frown upside down
Some how my feet separated from the ground

And the clown stays sad the people stay lost
Nah, the people are sad, we lost the clown
But the face stays painted on for everyone to gaze upon
And it will stay that way until the break of dawn

So throw your hands in the air!

"Oh, I'm sorry you can't you're wearing a straight jacket."