The Vaudevillian - Momus

You take the stage, you’re at your best

They’ve hushed the stalls at your behest

You start your act, you sing your songs

The house is packed, they sing along

You seem, they say, so very gay

The vaudevillian, one in a million

The girls you’ve loved, the times you’ve known

The wars you lost, that old trombone

And now the lines that crease your face

Are wet with tears and hot with grease

You know your lines, but God knows what they are

The vaudevillian, one in a million

You’re out of date, they’ve changed the styles

They love to hate, they hate to smile

They start to stamp, they start to boo

You’re some old man, they don’t know who

You’ve lost your shape, you’ve lost your «you»

The vaudevillian, one in a million

A coffin now appears, it’s very strange

They’ve put it here up on the stage

They push you in, the trim is plush

It’s very grim, away you’re rushed

And some lament while others disinfect

The vaudevillian

And now you take a little nap

And when you wake the stars are black

And God is dead and there’s this smell

And you’re not feeling very well

It seems you’re dead, oh bloody hell!

The vaudevillian, one in a million