I'm turning myself inside out - can't the people see?
I'm trying to be everything that they want me to be.
I tie myself in knots each day, my elbows scrape the floor,
Hoping for applause from those who always want for more.
You know how hard it is to get your spine to touch your knees?
I turn into a pretzel but I never seem to please,
The other players top the bill, ‘cause I can't fly or train,
I do the best that I can do, and try not to complain.
What a circus! What a life! Every show's the same,
The crowd is watching centre ring, don't even hear my name,
Contorting into figure eights, writhing, twisting, turning,
No-one cheers at my finale, hatred starts to burning.
I think I'll burn this circus down, incinerate the crowd,
And then someone will notice me, they'll scream my name out loud,
A pity people have to die but this is my decision,
Maybe then they'll understand I needed recognition.
- Graeme King, "The Contortionist"
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