- Votes:
- Genres:
- Folk
 
- Tags:
- british
- fiddle
- folk metal
- melancholic
 
- See also:
Skyclad - No Strings Attached lyrics
Now the final curtain's fallen,
 for no show goes on forever,
 if the world's a stage - mine's empty.
 whilst upon it you'll tread never.
 As the instruments lie silent in their coffins made of wood,
 i rest assured they'd say these words - If say these words they could;
 Whatever happened to the songs - the music that we made,
 and the joy we shared together as on me your fingers played?
 Are chose symphonies forgotten - with our cases closed and latched'?
 Dreams now dusty, old and rotten - empty shells (no strings attached).
 Amidst the dying candle-light,
 I sit forlorn, alone,
 a space once filled with laughter bright,
 the place my heart called home
 Now the puppets are my company - but wood and straw can't speak;
 though it by chance they came to life I'm certain they would weep;"
 "What am I without your tender touch -
 the hands to hold and guide me,
 what purpose has a puppet with no puppeteer beside me?
 I do not care I have no hair - my painted face is scratched.
 but fear my wooden heart will shatter with no stings attached.
[CHORUS:]
 No mourners assemble in this white-elephant's graveyard,Skyclad - No Strings Attached - http://motolyrics.com/skyclad/no-strings-attached-lyrics.html
 a dearth of bloom upon my tomb - an absence of forget-me-nots.
 For Romeo I understudied - this sepulchre dark and bloodied,
 It's my final resting place - amongst these "cloak-and-dagger' props.
 Your kiss turns princes into frogs - and passion-plays to monologues.
 Now last and least- the minstrel-takes his bow upon the stage,
 he's played a fool and played the prince - (but never acts his age).
 And If for once not lost for words- l wonder what he d say,
 to win fair maiden, slay the dragon, keep dread foe at bay?
 "Though I am not a wealthy man - my heart is pure and true,
 and the only riches that I have - the love I feel for you.
 Now my life is robbed of meaning
 Iike a purse of hope that's snatched.
 Must I spend my whole time dreaming -
 living life no strings attached?"
[CHORUS:]
 No mourners assemble in this white-elephant's graveyard,
 a dearth of bloom upon my tomb - an absence of forget-me-nots.
 For Romeo I understudied - this sepulchre dark and bloodied,
 It's my final resting place - amongst these "cloak-and-dagger' props.
 Your kiss turns princes into frogs - and passion-plays to monologues.














