Written by: Maridean Willimson

In this fun-house,
a lovesick game,
twisted sweet nothings,
lies all the same,
pretty colors,
fade and shine,
on my fantasies,
the fun-house demons dine,
 behind mirrors they hide,
your own nightmares and dreams,
like a puppet,
to the fun-house you're bound,
your once bright future,
no longer found,
you've sold your soul,
for a hopeful lie,
you can't escape,
don't even try,
just play the game,
like you're running with scissors,
just dance in front of,
the fun-house mirrors...

comments please if this makes any sense to you. I don't quite understand it, but a friend of mine wanted me to post it so... yah..