Marillion - Incubus
When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion forwarned my audience leaves the stage , floating ahead perfumed shift , within the stammering silence , the face that launched a thousand frames , betrayed by a porcelain tear , a stained career .
You've played this scene before , you've played this scene before I the mote in your eye , I the mote in your eye , a misplaced reaction .
Darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images in which you will always be the star , untouchable , unapproachable , constant in the darkness , nursing an erection , a misplaced reaction , with no flower to place before the gravestone , and the walls become enticingly newspaper thin , but that would only be developing the negative view , and you have to be exposed in voyueristic color , the public act , let you model your shame on the mannequin catwalk , catwalk , let the cats walk .
I've played this scene before , I've played this scene before , I the mote in your eye , I the mote in your eye , a misplaced reaction satisfaction .
You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs
The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear
Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity
Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity
You who I directed with lovers will, you who I let hypnotise the lens
You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare
You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask
Just like a greasepaint mask
But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past
I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun
It's just begun
Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets
As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows
Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips
Retrieve the soliloquy, maintain the obituary
My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude
Waiting for the prompt, waiting for the prompt
You've played this scene before .