| Your things do not belong here
|
| They now look out of place
|
| Just like a crooked painting
|
| Your face would not stay straight
|
| We’ve got to get out while we can
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| Our peace we will forever hold
|
| One more night without a blanket
|
| Someone’s bound to catch a cold
|
| Just like the devil’s disguise
|
| So are the days of our lives
|
| But before you leave I have
|
| Confession to make
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| It was only to impress your parents
|
| All those nights I washed the plates
|
| Scratched on an actor’s textbook:
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| «There are some things you just can’t fake»
|
| Now I’ve got dishpan hands
|
| Now the show is finally over
|
| There’s something I must stress
|
| There’ll be no more revivals
|
| My love I repossess
|
| We missed our curtain call
|
| There’s nothing left to say at all
|
| Except lights, camera, action |