[Slow, mournful strings. A single, weeping cello. Signor Sammartino's voice — soft, broken, barely holding together:]
"Ladies and gentlemen. Signore e signori. They say the clown laughs so he doesn't cry. They say the mask hides the pain. They say the performance is the only thing that keeps the darkness at bay."
"They're right. But the clown's mask isn't paint. It's blood. It's always been blood. Put on the blood. Step into the light. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh till the voices stop."
[The orchestra swells. The aria begins.]
[ARIA — SUNG, SOFT, BROKEN, BUILDING]
Vesti la giubba. Put on the blood.
The mask is red. The mask is mud.
The audience is waiting. The lights are bright.
The clown must perform. The clown must be right.
The voices are screaming. The voices are loud.
The clown is the only one in the crowd.
He laughs. He spins. He swings. He falls.
The clown is the only one who hears the calls.
Vesti la giubba. Put on the face.
The one that keeps you in this place.
The one that smiles. The one that lies.
The one that hides the bloodshot eyes.
[VERSE 2 — SUNG, BUILDING, MORE DESPERATE]
Vesti la giubba. The show must go on.
The voices are singing their favorite song.
The song of the blade. The song of the blood.
The song of the clown in the crimson flood.
He dances. He prances. He swings his axe.
The audience loves him. The audience claps.
They don't see the tears. They don't see the red.
They only see the clown. They only see what they said.
Vesti la giubba. The mask is wet.
The clown is the only one who hasn't left.
He stays. He stays. He always stays.
The clown is the only one who knows the ways.
[BRIDGE — SPOKEN OVER SOFT STRINGS]
"You ever put on a mask? Ever smile when you wanted to scream? Ever laugh when you wanted to swing? That's the clown. That's me. That's the thing that makes the voices quiet. For a moment. Just a moment."
"The blood is the mask. The blood is the truth. The blood is the only thing that ever made sense."
[The orchestra returns. Swelling. Desperate.]
[FINAL ARIA — SUNG, FULL ORCHESTRA, BROKEN, TRIUMPHANT, TERRIFYING]
Vesti la giubba. Put on the blood.
The clown is the only one in the flood.
The voices are screaming. The voices are loud.
The clown is the only one who makes them proud.
He laughs. He spins. He swings. He falls.
The clown is the only one who hears the calls.
Vesti la giubba. The show is done.
The clown is the only one who's won.
Vesti la giubba. The mask is red.
The clown is the only one who isn't dead.
He takes his bow. The curtain falls.
The clown is the only one who knows the calls.
Vesti la giubba. The end is near.
The clown is the only one who has no fear.
He laughs. He laughs. He laughs again.
Vesti la giubba. The clown's amen.
---
[OUTRO]
[The orchestra fades to a single, weeping cello note. Signor Sammartino's voice, soft, broken, satisfied:]
"That was 'Vesti La Giubba.' The clown's lament. The blood. The mask. The thing that makes the voices laugh."
AsheTheHyena
