"come one, come all!
to the magical closet tall
that holds every inch of my personality,
well, depending on which person I see.
yes, of course it changes!
like the wind, like the sea
like a thousand stories of gold
shrouded in black and stormy mystery.
I have heaps of endless clothing
so many, many masks to wear
sometimes I forget who I am,
my soul curls back in cold air.
am I loud today, or quiet?
outgoing, or maybe meek?
which color do you like—
oh, just tell me please—
if I'm left to be stark naked,
I just don't know who I'll be—
I've worn every single color
tried every single face,
and even so my closet sings:
you still haven't found your place."
'WHEN SOMEONE TELLS ME TO BE MYSELF, I ASK, WHICH ONE?' // A SONG SUNG BY ONE WHO IS TOO WEARY TO CRY.
