Hold those thoughts tight, maiden.
Those white gloved hands must be clean.
Step by step, continue your act.
Though, careful not to cause a scene.
The crowd knows better, they see the truth in those tears.
You're playing it nicely, but he hasn't seen you smile in seventeen years.
When curtains call, we ask that you rehearse your acts.
Our technical difficulties have caused us to skip one too many tracks.
The audience is lost, our storyline as far since been thrown.
Into the seats, where the hunger will linger, where the director may feel most alone.
Your book was laying open, center stage.
Removing the collected dust from the surface, I read the words printed with age.
Then gently, I pressed the pen, and gathered my words.
And created a new page.
Our technical difficulties have caused us to skip one too many tracks.
The audience is lost, our storyline as far since been thrown.
Into the seats, where the hunger will linger, where the director may feel most alone.
Your book was laying open, center stage.
Removing the collected dust from the surface, I read the words printed with age.
Then gently, I pressed the pen, and gathered my words.
And created a new page.
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