Curtain Call Pt I

When the curtain goes down
For that very last time
I will pull on it’s string
Rather than bow politely
Bathing in the applause

Stand aside in the shadows
And walk into the rain
Leaving the words to speak
For themselves without me
Stealing any of their thunder

Shutting that door behind me
Like a chapter in a book
In rhythm to the cheers
Clutching my stomach
Like a rhetorical question

Shrugging my shoulders
All the way back
To the bus stop across the road
With my heart
Still pounding on my knee

Rather than make
An ill-fated comeback

Chasing it like a ghost
Across a fairground

Curtain Call Pt II

It was just as I imagined
Only better, amazing in fact

There were so many times
I nearly gave up the ghost
Or the ghost gave up on me

It could have been different
So very, very different

Like being under water,
I didn’t really hear the applause

I never really bargained for the nerves,
the sickness of excitement,
the fear of failing, again…

It might not have been Wembley
or the Royal Albert Hall
You play to the audience
whether large or small
And I gave it my best,
I gave it my all

All the pain
Worth it’s weight in gold

As is the time to reflect
Some time on my own
Where nobody knows me
As I make my way home

I’ve been anonymous before

Jeff Dawson & Andy Nicholson February 2014