Slapped Actress

Don't tell my sister about your most recent vision Don't tell my family. They're all wicked strict Christians Don't tell the hangers-on. Don't tell your friends Don't tell them we went down to Ybor City again. Don't tell the dancers. They'll just get distracted Don't tell the DJs, they already suspect us Don't mention the bloodshed. Don't mention the skins Don't tell them Ybor City almost killed us again We are the theater They are the people dressed up to be seated Looking upwards and dreaming We're the projectors We're hosting the screening We're dust in the spotlights We're just kind of floating Don't drop little hints. I don't want them to guess Don't mention Tampa they'll just know all the rest Don't mention the bloodshed don't tell them it hurts Don't say we saw angels. They'll take us straight to the church They queue up for tickets To see the performance They push to get closer Looking upwards with wonder We are the actors The cameras are rolling I'll be Ben Gazzara You'll be Gena Rowlands. Sometimes actresses get slapped Sometimes actresses get slapped Sometimes fake fights turn out bad Sometimes actresses get slapped Some nights making it look real Might end up with someone hurt Some nights it's just entertainment Some other nights it's work They come in for the feeding Sit in stadium seating They're holding their hands out For the body and blood now We're the directors Our hands will hold steady I'll be John Cassavettes Let me know when you're ready Man, we make our own movies