Tuesday Matinee at the Lyric

From the mezzanine
Burning hot, cancerous like Hydrazine
Keep your conscience clean
The thoughts in your head that you didn’t mean
The person in your stead acting pristine
The HAZMAT suit that saves you from this scene
And the winter coat you grow
In hopes to never let it show
The balcony’s falling
The victims are flailing
The opera has finished for the night
A sideways glance, a dance
To lather but never rinse
And murder the nightly ghost
It's alive where a treacherous vibe tries to hide