Front Row for the Freakshow - Silas Smyth

[Intro – BARKERS; overlapping whispers, crowd bustle] Step up… step up… don’t blink… don’t breathe too deep… Cash in hand, eyes forward—no refunds in the dark. [Verse 1 – SILAS; close-mic, measured, venomous charm] I learned to smile in marble halls where empathy goes to die, Where pretty people sharpened jokes and called it “social life.” So I studied what they’re made of—little threads beneath the skin, A quiet map of breakable things… and how to re-begin. Now I roll into your county line with lanterns and perfume, A traveling chapel stitched in red, a soft electric doom. I don’t sell you hope, sweetheart—hope is cheap, hope is small, I sell you change with teeth and stitches… and a spotlight down the hall. [Pre-Chorus – FREAK CHOIR; hush to swell, breathy] Hush now—hear the canvas praying, Hear the cages sing. Everybody wants a miracle… Until the miracle has wings. [Chorus – FULL; stomps/claps, big hook] Get your front row for the freakshow— Where the pretty get unmade. Where the broken get their vengeance, And the cost is getting paid. Laugh along, don’t look away— This ring is holy, this ring is cruel. If you want to be more than human… Come sign your name in my splicing pool. [Verse 2 – SILAS; wider, more theatrical, knife-edge glee] Tattooed Woman turns her skin to ink, a living, shifting lie— She’ll wear your face for half a song, then wink and let it die. My Strongman lifts a metal gate like it’s a paper trick, And falls in love on command like a dog taught to fetch the stick. Contortionist folds through prison bars, a ribbon made of sin, She’ll kiss your fear and tie it neat, then slide the knife back in. Giant Lady bows like royalty, the ground remembers weight— A goddess built from loneliness who’s still growing into fate. And Fatman rolls through drywall like regret with legs and rage, A sermon made of consequences rattling the cage. [Pre-Chorus – ESMERÉE; playful, dangerous, glittering] Darling, don’t you love the lighting? It makes liars look sincere. Smile for me— If you tremble, it just means you’re really here. [Chorus – FULL; harsher guitars, choir louder] Get your front row for the freakshow— Where the pretty get unmade. Where the broken get their vengeance, And the cost is getting paid. Clap along, don’t look away— This ring is holy, this ring is cruel. If you want to be more than human… Come sign your name in my splicing pool. [Verse 3 – FORTUNE TELLER; sly, smoky; then SILAS replies] I’ll read your mind for pocket change, I’ll sell you truth in lace, I’ll swear the stars adore you, babe… then steal your fucking face. [SILAS; cool, amused] She thinks she owns the future—cute. I own the body it arrives in. I watch your blood like clockwork, I hear your marrow trying. [Bridge – THE MASTER MIME; silent “lyrics” as stage directions; band drops to bass + clicks] [He draws an invisible door—locks it.] [He mimes a rope—tightens it.] [He builds a box—someone pounds, unheard.] [He bows—like it’s art.] [Bridge – SILAS; low, clinical, intimate] I see the stutter in your heartbeat, I see the fractures in your pride. I see your “normal” like a costume You’ve been bleeding to provide. So tell me what you hate about you— Say it plain, say it clean. I can carve it into theater And call it evergreen. [Breakdown – BEASTMASTER + DOG-MAN; drums like a hunt] [BEASTMASTER; rough, almost tender] Easy now… heel… good monster… You only bite when I say so. [DOG-MAN; broken words, hungry devotion] M-Master… ring… home… I kill… for… home. [Final Chorus – ALL; biggest, triumphant horror] Get your front row for the freakshow— Where the pretty get unmade. Where the broken get their vengeance, And the cost is getting paid. Shout it out, don’t look away— This ring is holy, this ring is cruel. If you want to be more than human… Come sign your name in my splicing pool. Yeah, you can hate me for it— But you’ll thank me when you’re new. [Outro – SILAS spoken; calliope returns, slow and wrong] Welcome… to the grand spectacle of the strange. Now—take your bow… or take your place.