Song for Norma Desmond

Your mind is in a fallow grave, you've run out of lines But it's the most love you've had, in a long long time Your lover is desperate, he doesn't have the cash One thing you've got is a whole lot of cash This peculiar prism with relics from your past The part's no longer yours to play You've got to let him pass This dream could last forever when you dress him in fancy suits Cruising the hills above Sunset, it's a dream you have to lose When he goes to see his friends, they ask him where's he's been He's spent every minute with you, but he doesn't know where he's been He's trying to understand the spell that's been cast The part's no longer yours to play You've got to let her pass You're fifty going on seventeen, we pray you turn fifty one We pray you turn fifty one The musicians play for no one, we've seen your silent film And when you gestured, we went to your magic realm You filled up the swimming pool, he dives in designer trunks His body glistening, he dries handsome in the sun But whatever comes to be, must come to pass The part's no longer yours to play You've got to let him pass You're fifty going on eternity, we pray you turn fifty one We pray you turn fifty one, we pray you turn fifty one