THE SPECTATOR

Life’s stage is set

Get in line, take a number

It’s your choice to make

Play the game or enjoy the slumber

As the acts change one by one

Feel the whip of fear lash out

Feel that cold sweat, drop down the spine

As you forget the line you were to shout

It’s nothing less than a miracle

Or an unfortunate cruelty of theatre

Even when an actor falters

The play moves on for its arcane spectator