When we played our charade
We were like children posing
Playing at games, acting out names
Guessing the parts we played

Oh what a hit we made
We came on next to closing
Best on the bill, lovers until
Love left the masquerade

Fate seemed to pull the strings
I turned and you were gone
While from the darkened wings
The music box played on

Sad little serenade
Song of my heart’s composing
I hear it still, I always will
Best on the bill
Charade

( The Baby Flounces into the kitchen, very annoyed)

The Baby : I hate The Boy. Why can’t  I have a normal brother ? One that doesn’t go around singing Frank Sinatra all of the time ?