
Things look so much different
To how they looked last night
A pale face pressed to an unmade bed
Like flags of many nations flying high above her head
The telegram still in her hand
As whispers circulate all day
Their back-stage baby princess passed away
But you can't make her sing
And you can trap the free bird
But you'll have to clip her wings
`Cause she'll soar like a hawk when she flies
But she'll dive like an eagle when she dies
Fell flat upon an empty stage
Before the audience arrived
A return in time to the cheaper seats
She never knew what lay beneath
Just a dated handbill they found between the sheets
A shallow heart that left her cold
She left in rouge upon the mirror
A circled kiss to the faithful fans who'd miss her