MY HEART IS A STAGE

My heart is the stage for that ultimate 
heart-wringer, that melodrama, that great play of life.
My heart is at the center of the scandal 
That comes from stepping out, from flaring up
Your own limelight.

But my lines keep getting confused.  
My props get overturned and my actors keep leaving.
But this stage has to bleed, it has to burn.
It can’t seem to stop beating…

I can’t attract the blockbusters from Hollywood.
Their secretaries don’t return my calls.
Most of my shows are belted out
To high ceilings and to empty performance halls.

I can only attract already have-beens, or I-wish-I-had-beens.
No prima donnas for my stage.
But I don’t have to stomach any pompousness
And I have to say I like it better that way.

My cast and crew run risks, yes.
Their insurance premiums seem to slide sky-high.
At least once a month we have an accident caused when the stage--
Oh my god-- it chooses that time to die.

But that’s the price you pay for living.
Sometimes your shows will fall dead in their primes
Or the director falls off the catwalk.
And only then, under pressure, do your plotlines come alive.

And then Hollywood’s calling you, they see a million, they want a contract.
They want to wine and dine.
They want your picture in Vanity Fair.  
They wonder where you’re been hiding all this time.

And suddenly you’re the queen of pop culture
And everyone wants to see your pulsating stage.
And just as soon they all spy a fad in Calcutta.
You smile and say, well I kinda like it better that way.



My heart is the stage for that ultimate 
Heart-wringer, that melodrama, that great play of life.
My heart is at the center of the scandal
That comes from stepping out, 
From flaring up your own limelight.

But my lines keep getting confused.
My props get overturned and my actors keep leaving.
Cause this stage has to bleed, it has to burn.
It can’t seem to stop beating…