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    I am the painted child, the maker of confusion
    With rainbows in my hair and magic on my face
    A phantom of the street, an optical illusion
    Who hears a different beat, who runs a different race.
    I am the painted child, I am the mischief maker
    The beggar at the feast, the fiddler at the ball
    I know the words of songs, I am the Sabbath breaker
    The caller in the night, the writing on the wall.
    The name on the wall...is me
    The cry in the darkis me
    The mark of the childI sign
    The name on the wall
    I am the painted child, the child who is a stranger
    And those who once came near now turn and walk away
    And everywhere is fear and everywhere is danger
    These are the masks we wear, these are the parts we play
    I am the painted child, the crier and the chorus
    I strike upon the drum for funerals and games
    And others there have come in centuries before us
    To fill the world with noise and dance among the flames
    The name on the wall...is me
    The cry in the darkis me
    The mark of the childI sign
    The name on the wall
    I am the painted child, the clown and the protester
    A creature of the time and seldom what I seem
    And call me what you will, a renegade or jester
    But still I chill your heart, and still I haunt your dream
    Ill sing beside your grave, half-minstrel and half-mourner
    Ill sing of years gone by and bridges never crossed
    I am the painted child who stands on any corner
    I am the child you loved, I am the child you lost.
    The name on the wallis mine
    Look in to my face and see
    The strange painted child
    Is me

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