| 作曲 : Currie | |
| You take the stage, you're at your best | |
| They've hushed the stalls at your behest | |
| You start your act, you sing your songs | |
| The house is packed, they sing along | |
| You seem, they say, so very gay | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| The girls you've loved, the times you've known | |
| The wars you lost, that old trombone | |
| And now the lines that crease your face | |
| Are wet with tears and hot with grease | |
| You know your lines, but God knows what they are | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| You're out of date, they've changed the styles | |
| They love to hate, they hate to smile | |
| They start to stamp, they start to boo | |
| You're some old man, they don't know who | |
| You've lost your shape, you've lost your "you" | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| A coffin now appears, it's very strange | |
| They've put it here up on the stage | |
| They push you in, the trim is plush | |
| It's very grim, away you're rushed | |
| And some lament while others disinfect | |
| The vaudevillian | |
| And now you take a little nap | |
| And when you wake the stars are black | |
| And God is dead and there's this smell | |
| And you're not feeling very well | |
| It seems you're dead, oh bloody hell! | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million |
| zuo qu : Currie | |
| You take the stage, you' re at your best | |
| They' ve hushed the stalls at your behest | |
| You start your act, you sing your songs | |
| The house is packed, they sing along | |
| You seem, they say, so very gay | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| The girls you' ve loved, the times you' ve known | |
| The wars you lost, that old trombone | |
| And now the lines that crease your face | |
| Are wet with tears and hot with grease | |
| You know your lines, but God knows what they are | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| You' re out of date, they' ve changed the styles | |
| They love to hate, they hate to smile | |
| They start to stamp, they start to boo | |
| You' re some old man, they don' t know who | |
| You' ve lost your shape, you' ve lost your " you" | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| A coffin now appears, it' s very strange | |
| They' ve put it here up on the stage | |
| They push you in, the trim is plush | |
| It' s very grim, away you' re rushed | |
| And some lament while others disinfect | |
| The vaudevillian | |
| And now you take a little nap | |
| And when you wake the stars are black | |
| And God is dead and there' s this smell | |
| And you' re not feeling very well | |
| It seems you' re dead, oh bloody hell! | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million |
| zuò qǔ : Currie | |
| You take the stage, you' re at your best | |
| They' ve hushed the stalls at your behest | |
| You start your act, you sing your songs | |
| The house is packed, they sing along | |
| You seem, they say, so very gay | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| The girls you' ve loved, the times you' ve known | |
| The wars you lost, that old trombone | |
| And now the lines that crease your face | |
| Are wet with tears and hot with grease | |
| You know your lines, but God knows what they are | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| You' re out of date, they' ve changed the styles | |
| They love to hate, they hate to smile | |
| They start to stamp, they start to boo | |
| You' re some old man, they don' t know who | |
| You' ve lost your shape, you' ve lost your " you" | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million | |
| A coffin now appears, it' s very strange | |
| They' ve put it here up on the stage | |
| They push you in, the trim is plush | |
| It' s very grim, away you' re rushed | |
| And some lament while others disinfect | |
| The vaudevillian | |
| And now you take a little nap | |
| And when you wake the stars are black | |
| And God is dead and there' s this smell | |
| And you' re not feeling very well | |
| It seems you' re dead, oh bloody hell! | |
| The vaudevillian, one in a million |
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