Words/Music © Deborah Baudoin
See how the fool marches forth in the game,
Crowing his dignity, laughing his name.
Never gets caught, so he never gets blamed
With a face half in shadow, a heart half in flame.
He plays with fire, but never gets burned,
Challenges truth, but the truth's never learned.
Revels in victories he hasn't earned
While I wait in the background for him to return.
I play the part of the dutiful wife,
Waiting alone as he lives out his life,
Carving his name in a heart made of ice
For to love him, I'd pay such a terrible price.
Pivot and step, I bow to their history
I've no regret for what I've become.
Whether father or husband, it's no great mystery--
I'm not to blame for what they have done.
Moth to a flame, I fly to his side.
He who burns brightly, burns quickly.
I'm not to blame for being his bride--
I love him enough when he's with me.
I see him breaking, falling like icicles.
There in the crowd, he is always alone.
Longing for youth, he will pay any price.
He will never find peace if he never finds home.
Mariel and Timov
I see him drifting away from the light.
What does he see in the shadows at night?
Hiding his losses in laughter so bright.
Like a jester, he's bleeding,
But mocking his plight.
My heart is breaking, falling like icicles.
Here at his side, I am always alone.
Frozen in truce, we could pay any price,
We could make any peace, but we'll never find home.