"They say that there's a broken light for every heart on broadway.
The say that life's a game and then they take the board away.
They give you masks and costumes and an outline to the story
Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret.
In no longer pretty cities there are fingers in the kitties
There are warrants, forms and chitties and a jackboot on the stair.
There's sex and death and human grime in monochrome for one thin dime,
And at least the trains all run on time but they don't go anywhere.
Facing their responsibilities either on their backs or on their kneese
There are ladies who just simply freeze and dare not turn away,
And the widows who refuse to cry will be dressed in garter and bow-tie
And be taught to kick their legs up high in this Vicious Cabaret.
At last the 1998 Show! The ballet on the burning stage!
The documentary seen upon the fractured screen There's a policeman with an honest soul that has seen whose head is on the pole
And he grunts and fills his briar bowl with a feeling unease.
Then the briskly frisks the torn remains for a fingerprint or crimson stains
And endeavours to ignore the chains that he walks in to his kneese.
While his master in the dark nearby inspects the hands with brutal eye
That have never brushed a lovers thigh but have squeezed a nation's throat.
And he hungers in his secret dreams for the harsh embrace of cruel machines.
But his lover is not what she seems and she will not leave a note.
At last the 1998 show! The situation tragedy!
Grand opera slick with soap! Cliff-hangers with no hope!
The water-colour in the flooded Gallery
There's a girl who'll push but will not shove, and she's desperate for her father's love.
She believes the hand beneath the glove may be one she needs to hold.
Though she doubts her host's moralities she decides that she is more at ease,
in the land of doing-as-you-please then outside in the cold.
But the backdrops peel and the sets give way and the cast get eaten by the play.
There's a murderer at the matinee there are dead men in the aisles.
And the patrons and the actors too are uncertain if the show is through,
And with sidelong looks await their cue....
But the frozen Mask just smiles.
At last the 1998 show, the torch-song no one ever sings
The curfew chorus line, the comedy divine!
The bulging eyes of puppets strangled by their strings!
There's thrills and chills and girls galore, there's sing-songs and surprises!
There's something here for everyone, reserve your seat today!
There's michiefs and malarkies
But no queers
Or yids
Or Darkies
within this bastard's carnival
This vicious Cabaret!"
