Somewhere in the front of the footlights I'm looking for a good place to sit All my lines get so complicated That I take a fall into the orchestra pit
Samson suffered the same fate Powerless and losing his hair Somewhere in the wings there's a sensible whisper: When the hero dies, does the audience care?
All the sneaky things we could do in the dark And with every chance, I'd end up missing my mark In the city of night, out in the city of snow We kept playing the part where she's letting me go She always reminds me: We're playing the part where she's letting me go
Somewhere in the Empire City Someone takes a curtain call I'm so broke at the end of the evening That you'll find me hopeless in the back of the hall
Brutus suffered the same fate They left him all alone with his shame Somewhere in the wings there's a sensible whisper: When you wield the knife, learn to carry the blame