| It was just another show
|
| There in the front row sat a girl
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| Young and fair with a stare through her hair
|
| Of old fashioned curls
|
| But through the spectacle in all of its grandeur
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| I watched her from the stage
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| She never cracked a smile
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| Just held her that cold warning gaze
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| As if to say…
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| Sing me another song Cinderella’s gone
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| And she’s not coming back so long
|
| Let her go on, she’s gone
|
| Bring me another day
|
| Then send me along my merry way
|
| Illusions for the King
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| Don’t work on me at all
|
| When I saw her in that hall
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| Her image burned a hole in my mind
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| I tried so hard to find her
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| But from everyone to whom she was described
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| I was told she had long ago died
|
| But when the crowd rose
|
| And when the curtains closed
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| She was sitting there alone
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| And oh, I was terrified
|
| When she said…
|
| Sing me another song Cinderella’s gone
|
| And she’s not coming back so long
|
| Let her go on, go on
|
| She’s gone
|
| Bring me another day
|
| Then send me along my merry way
|
| Illusions for the King
|
| Don’t work on me at all
|
| Now here in my cage
|
| I can see how we’ve all bought the lie
|
| A promise of solace
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| That only exists in our minds
|
| For love is just apathy
|
| Disguised as a stranger in need
|
| And now the ghost of that woman
|
| Is the mother of the anger in me |