not only pitchy-patchy

behind the mask a man becomes divine
no simple act but transformation pure
a measure hidden when we pass the line

fates separate or come to intertwine
none of us starts expecting to endure
behind the mask a man becomes divine

the dancers come a signal and a sign
of earthly life receiving its great cure
a measure hidden when we pass the line

once truly clad nothing you see is mine
the human part is merely a sad lure
behind the mask a man becomes divine

to wear the costume requires a stout spine
and bearing that is noble not demure
a measure hidden when we pass the line

to a dead past our normal selves consign
appear in public powerful and sure
behind the mask a man becomes divine
a measure hidden when we pass the line