When we played our charade, we were like children posing
Playing at games, acting out names,
Guessing the parts we played.
Oh, what a hit we made. We came on next to closing
Best on the bill, Lovers until love left the masquerade.

Fate seemed to pull the strings; I turned and you were gone.
While from the darkened wings the music box played on.
Sad little serenade,song of my heart’s composing.
I hear it still. I always will. Best on the bill, Charade.