Hall of Grace
I.
Everyone’s invited, every soul you’ve known,
Familiar eyes in shadows, though you stand alone,
You might even meet somebody new tonight,
Under borrowed faces in the borrowed light.
II.
Everyone’s in costume, name tags you design,
Be whoever you want — just leave yourself behind,
You came a little nervous, played it off with style,
A clown nose for laughter, and a book to seem worthwhile.
(Instrumental break)
III.
Everybody’s seated, but no one stays long,
You drift between the tables like you don’t belong,
Say a word, leave a trace, then you move along,
Like a half-remembered, half-forgotten song.
IV.
Back at your table, sorting through the remains,
Little gifts and trinkets, unfamiliar names,
Mostly strangers passing through your space,
With quiet notes explaining what they chose to place.
Short interlude:
Yeah, it all felt harmless—
Yeah, it all felt cute.
Bridge.
Then the host made an announcement, changed the game,
“Bring me all your pieces, every gift, every name,
I’ll decide their meaning, I’ll decide their place,
Based on how you’ve wandered through my Halls of Grace.”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already see,
What you love, what you hide, what you’ll never be,”
There was something in the air, something slightly off,
But no one really questioned, just a nervous laugh.
They were tired and enchanted, drunk on the disguise,
Lost inside the moment, blinded by the lights,
So the music kept on playing, carried through the dawn,
And the night rolled on… and on… and on…
(Instrumental break)
V.
Morning came in fragments — broken, blurred, and strange,
Bodies bruised and scattered, hearts a little deranged,
Some were sick with sorrow, some were numb with pain,
Some just stared like they’d never wake again.
VI.
You were one of the lucky ones, still steady on your feet,
With a little left inside you, not completely beat,
Then the doors swung open — like they’d always been,
Guard said, “You just never saw ‘em through the din.”
VII.
Stepped into the daylight, quiet as a grave,
Like the night erased itself, like nothing to be saved,
Saw a few escapees blinking in the sun,
Each one telling stories of what they’d become.
VIII.
Some were rich with treasures, gold and lacy dreams,
Some were lost and wandering, split at the seams,
Some stayed in the ballroom, or forgot the way,
Like the world outside had nothing left to say.
Outro I.
And you thought of the ones you left behind,
Friends and family tangled in that state of mind,
Should you turn around, try to pull them through?
What if they still needed something only you could do?
Outro II.
But they’re old enough to find their way somehow…
At least that’s what you tell yourself now…
I just hope they find their way somehow…
