Now the final curtain's fallen,

for no show goes on forever,

if the world's a stage - mine's empty.

whilst upon it you'll tread never.

As the instruments lie silent in their coffins made of wood,

I rest assured they'd say these words - If say these words they could;

Whatever happened to the songs - the music that we made,

and the joy we shared together as on me your fingers played?

Are chose symphonies forgotten - with our cases closed and latched'?

Dreams now dusty, old and rotten - empty shells (no strings attached).

Amidst the dying candle-light,

I sit forlorn, alone,

a space once filled with laughter bright,

the place my heart called home

Now the puppets are my company - but wood and straw can't speak;

though it by chance they came to life I'm certain they would weep;