Farewell, so long

Who’s to say who belongs?

When the Screen goes black we can’t get back

To the places where we came from

 

There’s a time and a place

A silent line, one can’t trace

The illusion of light is the slight in its bend

While the curtains, they can’t pretend

 

How the stagehand feels

With the pulleys spinning wheels

No the show, must go on

 

The crowd ushered in

The Matradee’s next of kin

Limited seats stretch through limited rows

And above sits a murder of crows

 

All fancied in their shoes

First to pick, first to choose

No the show, must go on

 

With the chalice in their hands

And the waiter’s left to stand

No the show, must go on …

 

When the southern blade

Stabs through the western trade

We bring it down,

Down to the theater

 

When the white snow falls

Through the grandest of halls

We bring it down,

Down to the theater

 

When the manic breaks track

And the sideshows laugh

We bring it down,

Down to the theater

 

When the cool waves crash

And the sunsets match

We bring it down,

Down to the theater...

 

Twenty-three, forty-five

Fifteen till, still alive

When the clock strikes high, A child begins to cry

As the encore waves goodbye

 

To the mothers that yield

All the babies in the field

No the show, must go on

 

For the poor man’s fate,

When his son arrives too late

No the show, must go on

 

When the whistle that sounds

Around the trains that are bound

No the show, must go on

 

And for the imminent race

And the paintings we must face

No the show, must go on…........