Sneaking into the balcony
Felt the curtains on the wall
Well I might jump or I might fall
I have not decided
Stare into your silver screen
The film is melting happily
Brown is turning into gold
I'm falling through these walls
Gracefully, you hit your mark
Well, acting is naive
The arc of lights above your head
Is not to be believed
On your marquee
And your publicist was great
She got me this date
And although I can't complain
I do not like champagne
You love the trading cards of fame
Well, what rhymes with "insane"?
And I lied about champagne
Yes I lied about it
Gracefully, you hit your mark
Well, acting is naive
The arc of lights above your head
Is not to be believed
On your marquee
Will I see you in the parking lot? (x4)