Hand On Hand, Hand On Chin

Their hands are kept beneath their chins
Upon the ballroom floor
The masks and costumes, think and thin
Flooding out the door.

Should hands drop mask from face
You'd see faces of empty stares
With hollow eyes, tales of nothing
No emotions, no real cares

She wanders through the mass
Bumping shoulders over again
She searches, but with hands raised
Her search is just in vain

The dancing grows still faster
As the crowd picks up its pace
She is walking through that dream
Of those masks over a blank face

I wander through the mass
They do not spare me a glance
With this speed increasing
I wouldnt stand a chance

The crowd aquires still more speed
And soon im surrounded by fear
Without my mask, hand on chin
I was standing naked here

I saw a face, without the mask
Some twenty feet away
Her lips they quirked, she smiled at me
I didnt know what to say

She wanders forward toward me
Dodging the violent shoulder craze
And though there was a mile to go
She reached the end unscathed

She took my hand, and i gripped hers
And with hand on hand than on chin
We tore apart the ballroom
And destroyed it from within

And years from then, I remember
When she walked that hardy mile
Nothing in her has changed
Since her initial quirky smile.