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 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 It was only to impress your parents All those nights I washed the plates Scratched on an actor's textbook: "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