I must play the part well,
to be cast and recast like clockwork
in this halfhearted saga.

I had the most introspective dream,
a car ride, and nothing was said,
such is a metaphor so far.

Was I pondering, the life of a stage hand,
without the watchful eye of design,
and the executive decisions of fate?

Maybe, but the show goes on,
and the sanctity of powder rooms
is purged by raucous encores.