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