Sober in the morning light
Things look so much different
To how they looked last night.
A pale face pressed to an unmade bed
Like flags of many nations flying high above her head.
The cellophane still on the flowers
The telegram still in her hand
As whispers circulate all day
Their back-stage baby princess passed away.
And you can cage the songbird
But you can't make her sing,
And you can trap the free bird,
But you'll have to clip her wings,
‘Cos she'll soar like a hawk when she flies
But she'll dive like an eagle when she dies.
Promises of no more lies,
Fell flat upon an empty stage
Before the audience arrived.
A return in time to the cheaper seats
She never knew what lay beneath
Just a dated handbill found between the sheets.
Let down before the final curtain
A shallow heart that left her cold.
She left in rouge upon the mirror
A circled kiss to the faithful fans who'd miss her.