the sweetest mask - (Alastor’s Song)

lyrics - [VERSE 1] I sit beneath the crimson glow, where broken little secrets grow. A glass of gold inside my hand, a lonely king who rules no land. The mirror knows the face I hide, the things I buried deep inside. I taught my sorrow how to dance, then dressed my wounds in elegance. I learned to laugh before I'd cry, to wave goodbye and never ask why. The world prefers a pretty lie, so I became its alibi. [PRE-CHORUS] Turn the dial and kill the light, let the static haunt the night. If they want a heartless host, I'll give them something they can toast. [CHORUS] This is the sweetest mask I wear, a perfect smile to hide despair. I laugh while all the heavens crack, then paint my sorrow black on black. This is the sweetest mask I know, the one I wear so none will know. If pain is love that lost its way, I'll make it sing another day. The sweetest mask… so soft, so cruel, so beautifully false. And if you ask what's underneath— I'll smile… and show you nothing at all. [VERSE 2] I built my throne from shattered dreams, stitched every tear with silver seams. I made a kingdom out of scars, then hung my sadness from the stars. The higher that the curtains rise, the more I disappear behind my eyes. They cheer the monster on the stage, but never ask about the cage. I keep my ghosts beneath the floor, they knock, but I don't hear them anymore. For every name I chose to lose, I found another one to use. [PRE-CHORUS 2] So pour the wine and let it stain, a little sweetness hides the bitter taste. Don't call it sorrow, call it art, don't call it broken, call it heart. [CHORUS] This is the sweetest mask I wear, a perfect smile to hide despair. I laugh while all the heavens crack, then paint my sorrow black on black. This is the sweetest mask I know, the one I wear so none will know. If pain is love that lost its way, I'll make it sing another day. The sweetest mask… so soft, so cruel, so beautifully false. And if you ask what's underneath— I'll smile… and show you nothing at all. [BRIDGE ] Maybe I was never born this cold, maybe warmth was something I was never told. Maybe every hand that pulled away taught me not to beg for anyone to stay. So I sharpened every word I spoke, turned every promise into smoke. I made a weapon from my grin, because nobody could hurt what couldn't let them in. And now they call me beautiful, they call my madness wonderful. But beauty is a dangerous disguise when there's a dying heart behind the eyes. #hazbinhotel #alastor 01:02