Masquerade

Masks of gold crumble and your silk skirts tear
Crackling laughter of hags and old maids
Glass slippers brake and feet bleed
The Prince hasn't come back for a time
His spirit has left a void of black and green
Stitch your mouths Sirens and do no harm
As the Prince returns, woo him with words and looks
Gold masks will reappear and silk skirts shall mend
Feet will heal and glass slippers returned
The hags and old maids will remain the same
Be cautious when you play the masquerade