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Burn My Dread

de Wayne Newton

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 hearts composing
I hear it still, I always will
Best on the bill, charade

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