Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Darren Hanlon
Your things do not belong here
They now look out of place
Just like a crooked painting
Your face would not stay straight
We've got to get out while we can
Our peace we will forever hold
One more night without a blanket
Someone's bound to catch a cold
Just like the devil's disguise
So are the days of our lies
But before you leave I have
A confession to make
It was only to impress your parents
All those nights I washed the plates
Scratched on an actors textbook
'There are some things you just can't fake'
Now I've got dishpan hands
Now the show is finally over
There's something I must stress
There will be no more revivals
My love I repossess
We missed our curtain call
There's nothing left to say at all