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