Tell me something if you can.

Have you seen the man with the painted face?
Not a mime, nor a clown.
The paint invisible, and is never a frown.
It's normally a smile, so no one could tell if anything is wrong, or if he was naturally born wild.
Some call him funny, some call him insane.
He can make you laugh, when he is in the deepest of pain.

He's the life of the party, but alone in the crowd.
Everyone seems to need him when he's around.
He makes an appearance, he puts on a show,
but deep inside he knows, no one really knows.
The darkest of secrets, the hopes and desires.
Watching carefully for hearts catching afire.
Secretly thinking of all things dreaming,
Wondering if bringing it to life be worth repeating.

The painted faced man is fast and he's sly.
Some have to think twice before pulling one on this guy.
He's quick and he's smart, but that's just the start.
All the motions and actions he's feeling in his heart.
With winding and turning, and yes sometimes burning,
Makes you wonder what's there to be learning.

So if we meet upon the street,
and I look like I'm feeling upbeat
Could you tell if it is I,
The man with the painted face?