Think of the characters they try to portray.
They hide what they're thinking hide what they feel,
In an age of hypocrisy nothing is real.
Faces are just curtains of stone,
That hides their true feelings 'till they're alone.
You see only the façade they wish to show.
Is it that they are weak or afraid?
They live out their lives in this masquerade.
They tried to enchant, persuade or beguile.
Faceless with no thoughts or ideals,
Transparent reflections, nothing is real.
But it's only a front, a place they can hide.
Their own minds suppressed from birth to the grave,
Enacting their lives in this masquerade.
I try to find out if I play the game.
Which side of my soul does everyone see?
The face that I show is it really me?
Is my true self left in the dark?
Am I for real, or what I am made?
Or am I just part of this masquerade?
- The Lords Of Hypocrisy
- Satan's Henchmen
- Sentinels Of Hate
- The Interlude
- The Aftermath
- The Masquerade
- The Devil Came Down to Br..
- March of the Dead