Lyrics

At the end of the day There's a man going back to his room And his final performance Expected to start very soon Will be an exclusive view Well accorded For those who saw his debut And applauded With the turn of a page He returns to the days of his youth In his mind, he forgets the difference 'Twixt fiction and truth The critics compared him to Kean And his Hamlet Brought tears to the eyes Of the Queen at the Alhambra Was it so long ago when the pеople Stood up on their chairs? And the womеn would wait In the rain for a lock of his hair? How they would cheer When the curtain descended Those were the days When applause never ended Autographed programmes And pictures he always keeps near And a make-up box given to him On the last night of Lear Sir Beerbohm Tree, silk cravat Irving's type in And Mistinguette's kiss Wrapped in satin At the end of the day The old man sits alone in his room And he knows that the company Assembled before him quite soon Will see a young man At the peak of his calling Turning his face to the storm Of applause 'round him falling So he carefully dresses And waits as the lights Start to fade For his favourite audience Knows that he isn't afraid And he smiles at a world That he can't understand He's drifting away For the start of the play Is at hand