| When I’m down
|
| And filled with gloom
|
| And feel like I can’t compete
|
| I slip into my old tap shoes
|
| And dance around with two left feet
|
| With one click of my heels
|
| Scrape of my toes
|
| The walls of my room unglue
|
| And on that marquee
|
| It says that you love me
|
| The shows sold out
|
| So it must be true
|
| To everyone in the room
|
| The house lights dim
|
| The curtain is raised
|
| It’s just me and that empty stage
|
| The crowd explodes with a glorious roar
|
| That tells me everything thing is OK
|
| With one tip of my hat
|
| The orchestra plays
|
| That timeless Vaudeville tune
|
| And to my surprise
|
| I notice your eyes
|
| Following my every move
|
| We got nothing to prove
|
| So I reach out my hand
|
| And pull you up to me
|
| A brush on the cheek for luck
|
| With a confident smile we sway for awhile
|
| Until we float high above
|
| The stress of the day
|
| The weight of the world
|
| That things that we felt as a kid
|
| All there is now
|
| Is the glorious sound
|
| Of four tapping shoes and a kiss
|
| Cause that’s what I miss
|
| The house lights dim
|
| The curtain is raised
|
| It’s just me and that empty stage
|
| The crowd explodes with a glorious roar
|
| That tells me everything thing is OK |