             |
lyrics: J. Morse © 1982 Veils of disguise, concealing solid sheets Hiding all the flaws from open view Packaging the garbage, selling it as new Hiding the truth unless you're of the chosen few The walls of this disguise need a brand new coat of paint To cover up the flaws, make them look new It's just a reproduction, not original But in the run for money, they won't let it on to you When what you see is what you get That's when it's safe to place the bet But when you don't get just what you see You know it's just a travesty The horse is getting on, though he looks young and strong Built like he could run a thousand miles But his bones are weak and fragile, his aching limbs are strained Yet the bettors still line up behind the turnstiles. . . The face is just a masque that's been rebuilt a hundred times The lines across the cheeks no longer there You think a bit of surgery's the way to regain youth Well, don't forget you need to dye your hair When what you see is what you get That's when it's safe to place the bet But when you don't get just what you see You know it's just a travesty She always seems so happy, she smiles all the time Her eyes, they twinkle with a silver light But deep inside she's aching, she wishes she were dead Because she's tired of a life that's a constant fight When what you see is what you get That's when it's safe to place the bet But when you don't get just what you see You know it's just a travesty |