the traveler is weary.
he carries a heavy heart
as he stumbles from town to town.
his presence is noticed.
he gathers an audience,
and they demand a performance from this clown.
she sits by the window.
she cradles her memories.
she hides her nostalgia beneath her crown.
her room is a prison.
her mind is the guardian,
but her stubbornness keeps her from foolin' around.
and she waits for tomorrow to come.
and she stays in her tower above
all the naves vying for her love.
and this castle is haunted,
but not by a vengeful ghost.
no body is burried beneath the grounds.
it's forbidden romance
and lovers that walk these halls
trying desperately not to make a sound.
the audience scatters; a clear sign that it's time to move on.
this town has grown bitter like cheap wine.
but she'll never find him here again.
no you'll never find me here again.
so she sits on her thrown as she sends him away.
he puts on his costume and prepares for the stage.
he knows she's out in the audience as he takes his place:
you see it's moments like this one that time can't erase.
and he knows what his lines are, he knows what to say,
but she's to stubborn to listen and he's to stubborn to stay.
it's just another silent standoff, just another foolish game,
but this time, this role, this fool won't play.
we can't stay young forever,
but we could grow old together.
i'm just a fool who's tarred and feathered,
waiting to climb up to you.
the curtains have fallen, the players have all gone home.