| |
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|
|
|
|
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| | Erte | |
| | | |
| | As this little drama draws to its end… |
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| |
And the final
curtain begins to descend…
| |
|
I recall
the many actors, the many scenes…
Extenuating
circumstances, reality, dreams…
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|
| |
| |
| | | |
| |
Subtle nuances
into the night…
| |
| | Whimsical fantasies taking full flight… | |
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Ecstasy with lovers, excuses we defend… |
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| | The
intoxicating desire from beginning to end…
| |
| | | |
| | I
hang up my costume; put the mask away… | |
|
Take off my make up as I recall the play… |
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| |
Question
in the mirror as I let down my hair…
| |
| | Could I have played it better either here or there? | |
| | | |
| | But I played the scenes wildly baring my heart… | |
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I'm sure that each of us gave our all to our part… |
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| |
So no winners,
no losers, no excuses, no shame…
| |
| |
This masquerade
is over, exit the actors...
| |
| | no blame… | |
| | |
