Lights - Darren Hanlon

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