Quiet please, there's a lady on stage.
She may not be the latest rage,
But she's singing, and she means it.
And she deserves a little silence.
Quiet please, there's a woman up there,
And she's been honest through her songs
Long before your consciousness was raised.
Now doesn't that deserve a little praise.
So put your hands together, help her along,
All that's left of the singers, all that's left of the song.
Stand for the ovation,
And give her one last celebration.
Quiet please, there's a person up there,
Who's singing of the sins that none of us could bear
To hear for ourselves,
Now give her your respect if nothing else.
So put your hands together, help her along,
All that's left of the singers, all that's left of the song.
Rise to the occasion,
And give her one last celebration.
Quiet please, there's a lady on stage.
Conductor, turn the final page.
When it's over, we can all go home.
She lives on on the stage alone.
So put your hands together, help her along,
All that's left of the singers, all that's left of the song.
Stand for the ovation,
And give her one last celebration.
Put your hands together, help her along,
Let's just stay here all night; let's sing every song.
Won't you rise, rise to the occasion,
Yes, give her, one last, just one last celebration...
Waking skies - at sunrise
Every sunset too
Seems to be - bringing me
Memories of you
Here and there - every where
Scenes that we once knew
And they all - just recall
Memories of you
(oh) how i wish i could forget those, (those) happy yesteryears
That have left a rosary of tears
Your face beams - in my dreams
spite of all i do
everything - seems to bring
Memories of you...