Comfort in the Orchestration
One day you're certain
Of how things will be
Then you're bewildered
And robbed of your glee

And this is what happens next:
The curtains are drawn;
The stage of your life revealed
But the script is now gone
Ohh oohh...

The question's in your eyes
"What's the meaning of it all?"
To which your heart replies
"This is much less like a play
And more like a Grand Ball."
Yeah!

The stage is now filled with song
All the cast of your play are now dancing
You're itching to dance along;
Now you can't stop your feet from the tapping
Soon enough you'll start to think
"Perhaps I'll write again."
With your reasons indistinct
"A script may help this dance."
You so easily forget
Exactly how this ends

Inspired, rewired
You calculate the steps
Each movement to the moment
An elaborate conquest
You'll find such comfort in the orchestration
You must determine how the plot unfolds

Making rigid demands of your cast
They seem so unconcerned with the things you ask

And still they keep dancing on
Just as though you don't have a say
And the choice of routine or song
Isn't better that way

This is what happens when
You realize you're not in control
Some days you'll bear the load
And others you won't