Born in the last isle seat, at the old theatre Strand Tall, red, and heavy, the magical, stage curtain stand Acting and the make up, was part of my daily plan To dance, spin, and sing and the wave of my fan Soon time crept next to me, here in my ole’ seat The others were soon tapping, to my song and beat As I watch from the safety of my chair, I smile and see That my life has been on stage, since the age of wee My hurried and dark life, began in the seat in the back No matter how I try, I don’t ever want to go back So here I sit, alone and scared, on my final last day, The stage will fill with the others, and then the play