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Now the final curtain's fallen, for no show goes on forever, if the world's a stage - mine's empty. whilst upon it you'll tread never. As the instruments lie silent in their coffins made of wood, I rest assured they'd say these words - If say these words they could; Whatever happened to the songs - the music that we made, and the joy we shared together as on me your fingers played? Are chose symphonies forgotten - with our cases closed and latched'? Dreams now dusty, old and rotten - empty shells (no strings attached). Amidst the dying candle-light, I sit forlorn, alone, a space once filled with laughter bright, the place my heart called home Now the puppets are my company - but wood and straw can't speak; though it by chance they came to life I'm certain they would weep; " "What am I without your tender touch - the hands to hold and guide me, what purpose has a puppet with no puppeteer beside me? I do not care I have no hair - my painted face is scratched. but fear my wooden heart will shatter with no stings attached.
No mourners assemble in this white-elephant's graveyard, a dearth of bloom upon my tomb - an absence of forget-me-nots. For Romeo I understudied - this sepulchre dark and bloodied, It's my final resting place - amongst these "cloak-and-dagger' props. Your kiss turns princes into frogs - and passion-plays to monologues.
Now last and least - the minstrel-takes his bow upon the stage, he's played a fool and played the prince- (but never acts his age). And If for once not lost for words - l wonder what he d say, to win fair maiden, slay the dragon, keep dread foe at bay?
"Though I am not a wealthy man - my heart is pure and true, and the only riches that I have - the love I feel for you. Now my life is robbed of meaning Iike a purse of hope that's snatched. Must I spend my whole time dreaming - living life no strings attached?"
No mourners assemble in this white-elephant's graveyard, a dearth of bloom upon my tomb - an absence of forget-me-nots. For Romeo I understudied - this sepulchre dark and bloodied, It's my final resting place - amongst these "cloak-and-dagger' props. Your kiss turns princes into frogs - and passion-plays to monologues.
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