he's sitting in his dressing room
cleaning make up with a greying towel
stained with five and nine
at each passing of the rag
I knew him first from television
have admired him from afar
watched across the orchestra pit
in full voice the tragic actor
now I see the real tragedy
as I offer my book and pen
did his performance fulfill
tell me tell me once again
nothing can convince him
of the finest of his craft
the lines multiply with each
'thank you - how kind you really are'
The Blue Book
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