Under the Lights
Thomas Faulwell
See if I can wait
Beneath the iron gate
Before the marble floor
Up on the door
Under the lights of written words
Who made a name for us
The puppets still remain
The crowd has gone away
In measure soft and slow
In service to the show
Yeah we can not go
And now you know
Under the light of written words
Point me the way to the sun
Under the lights of written words
Who made a name for us