Incubus

When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion Forwarned my audience leaves the stage, floating ahead Perfumed shift, within the stammering silence The face that launched a thousand frames Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career You've played this scene before, you've played this scene before I, the mote in your eye, I, the mote in your eye, a misplaced reaction, reaction The darkroom unleashes imagination, in pornographic images In which you will always be the star Untouchable, unapproachable Constant in the darkness, in the darkness Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction With no flower to place before this gravestone And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin But that would only be developing the negative view And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic color, the public act Let you model your shame on the mannequin catwalk, catwalk Let the cats walk