When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion forwarned
My audience leaves the stage, floating ahead perfumed shift,
Within the stammering silence, the face that launched a thousand frames,
Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career, career.
You played this scene before, you played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye, I the mote in your eye,
A misplaced reaction, reaction
The darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images
In which you will awlays be the star, always be the star, untouchable,
Unapproachable, constant in the darkness, in the darkness, in the darkness,
Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction,
With no flower to place before this gravestone,
And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin,
But that would be developing the negative view,
And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic colour,
The public act, let you model your shame
On the mannequin catwalk, catwalk,
Let the cats walk, and the cat walks
I've played this scene before, I've played this scene before,
I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye, I the mote in your eye,
A misplaced reaction, satisfaction
A irritating speck of dust that came from absolutely nowhere...
You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs,
The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear,
Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity,
Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity,
You who I directed with lovers will, you who I let hypnotise the lens,
You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare,
You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask,
Just like a greasepaint mask.
But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of filmreels past,
I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun,
It's just begun, it's just begun
Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets
As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows,
Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips,
Retrieve the soliloque, maintain the obituary,
My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude
Waiting for the prompt, [waiting for the prompt]
You've played this scene before
Writer(s): Mark Kelly, Steve Rothery, Pete Trewavas, Derek William Dick
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