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