A Clown without a crown is how she felt. A Queen covered in too much make-up. In a world full of misery and laughter. In a world filled with sadness and slaughter.
Within her beating heart she tries to keep the chuckles, she tries to keep the giggles. Yet deep down the Jester inside cries and cries and cries, for inside her soul she wants to die.
Sometimes it's lonely being a Clown when those that leave don't stay around to climb in the little car with her, to honk her horn, to love her when she falls in mud, to live a life with her as she throws the pies.
And she cries and lies in sorrow for she'll always be a Clown without a crown of tomorrow.
Alas yesterday is gone, and like a comic she becomes drawn. Ergo, a Comedian without a tiara and her mascara runs as her tears come crumbling down.