Leitch
The actor, the actor, the actor
I lived a life and cast myself a role
I played a part of my own devising
I played it well, too well for healthy soul
Believing in my fantasizing
When all around me cheered and chanted
I took the accolade
I sold the lonely loser's wisdom
Of clay and wattle made
Of clay and wattle made
The actor, the actor, the actor
My character he loved the crowded nights
The easy pleasures of the rise to fame
The hardest acting still was yet to come
As high he rise, as far he fall again
When all around me cheered and chanted
I played the masquerade
The teeny girls, they screamed and panted
Too many bows he made
Too many bows he made
The actor, the actor, the actor
I lived a life and cast myself a role
I played a part of my own devising
I played it well, too well for healthy soul
Believing in my fantasizing
When all around me cheered and chanted
I took the accolade
I sold the lonely loser's wisdom
Of clay and wattle made
Of clay and wattle made
The actor, the actor, the actor
My character he loved the crowded nights
The easy pleasures of the rise to fame
The hardest acting still was yet to come
As high he rise, as far he fall again
When all around me cheered and chanted
I played the masquerade
The teeny girls, they screamed and panted
Too many bows he made
Too many bows he made
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