Pacing back and forth, one more number 'til you go on.

Hair's done up, makeup's on, words of reassurance being said.

The clapping starts, the lights dim.

On you run.

Twirling 'round and 'round on the dance floor, effortless leaps being executed – no fear.

As you strike the final pose, flowers shower onto the stage.

The clapping is loud;

seems to never end.

Many more nights like this will come, but for tonight,

take a bow

and

let the curtains close.