Ian Anderson
Woman in the Wings
She watches anxiously
Helpless to protect
The girl in the goldfish bowl of light
The jigging marionette
And the woman in the wings
She worries when she sings out of key
The dancer as she twirls
Oblivious and calm
With tossed curls and swirls
She will face any storm
But the woman in the wings
She fidgets with her rings and wrings her hands
The puppet on the stage
Elusive and calm
Buttered and bruised
She collapses in the arms
Of the woman in the wings
Who gently takes the strings, leads her away
To a private dressing dressing room
She takes the doll apart
And packs her away in the wardrobe
Til the next show starts
Then the woman in the wings
Collects up all her things and goes home