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#11 |
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Cerebellumberjack
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As the curtain rises, we see a Woman
Who just two years ago climbed the Steps Clutched in hand, a small amount of Money Before Broadway she’d had less than a Life Her days spent weeping over Love She traded her sorrows for the Stage Now she lived for the Stage More a Marionette then a Woman Who sang and danced and felt Love For the masses waiting beyond the Steps For her own she had no other Life Performance was worth more than Money She never had quite enough Money She had sold her soul for the Stage It was a lonely, troubled Life For a girl quickly turned Woman Who had at sixteen climbed the Steps After finally losing her Love She had filled the void with a new Love One she couldn’t buy with Money To those who climbed the Steps And viewed the brightly-lit Stage She was the picture of a Woman Who had great joy in her Life The end soon came of that Life Men with tools killed her Love She was once more a broken Woman With not nearly enough Money Remembering the old Stage She wept silently on the Steps An hour later, she left the Steps Without any semblance of Life Lost without the lights of the Stage After that she knew no Love Though she faked it for Money They wanted a body, Not a Woman The curtain falls in front of a Woman, lying dead on the Steps She was found without Money, or anything to link her to Life Unable to cope with the loss of Love, She had followed the Stage |
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