Here we stand, playing out our roles once more:
You're the cold, aloof, somewhat crazy star with the crowd eating out of his hand;
I'm the lady with the smile, staying cool, not letting anyone see where my loyalties lie.
But my role keeps getting harder to play, for I see pain in your eyes more often these days and know you're thinking of the people we really are.
When the house lights go up and it's time to go home,
that's when we can really begin to live.
I fall into your arms, knowing I'll never want another,
for no other man could make me feel the way you do.
And you, no longer so aloof, cling to me as well,
waiting to hear my critique of the show,
anxious for a re-affirmation of the strength of our love.
Even though I've heard the logic and reasoning a thousand times--
an attached man loses his appeal and popularity too fast--
I can't help resenting what this double life has done to us.
We both long to share our love and happiness with the world,
but we know we can't take that risk, at least for now,
so we must be content to share a secret love.
© 1983 TDD