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