Dress Rehearsal Rag Lyrics - In My Life - Judy Collins

Got up sometime in the afternoon 

And you didn't feel like much 

You said to yourself, "Where are you, golden boy 

Where is your famous golden touch?" 

I thought you knew where 

All the elephants lie down 

I thought you were the crown prince 

Of all the wheels in Ivory town 

Look at your body now 

Where there's nothing much to say 

And a bitter voice in the mirror says 

"Hey prince, you need a shave" 

Now if you can manage to get 

Your trembling fingers to behave 

Why don't you try unwrapping 

A stainless steel razor blade? 

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That's right, it's come to this 

It's come to this 

And wasn't it a long way down? 

And wasn't it a strange way down? 

There's no hot water 

And the cold is running thin 

Well, what do you expect 

From the kind of places you've been living in? 

Don't drink from that cup 

It's all caked and cracked along the rim 

That's not the electric light, my friend 

That is your vision that is dim 

Cover up your face with soap, there 

Now, you're Santa Claus 

And you've got an A for anyone 

Who will give you his applause 

Photos 

I thought you were a racing man 

Ah, but you couldn't take the pace 

That's a funeral in the mirror 

And it's stopping at your face 

That's right, it's come to this 

It's come to this 

And wasn't it a long way down? 

And wasn't it a strange way down? 

Once there was a path 

And a girl with chestnut hair 

And you spent the summers 

Picking all the berries that grew there 

There were times she was a woman 

There were times she was a child 

As you held her in the shadows 

Where the raspberries grow wild 

And you climbed the highest mountains 

And you sang about the view 

And everywhere you went 

Love went along with you 

That's a hard one to remember 

It makes you clench your fist 

And the veins stand out like highways 

All along your wrist 

And yes, it's come to this 

It's come to this 

And wasn't it a long way down? 

Wasn't it a strange way down? 

You can still find a job 

Go out and talk to a friend 

On the back of every magazine 

There are coupons you can send 

Why don't you join the Rosicrucians? 

They will give you back your hope 

You can find your love in diagrams 

In a plain, brown envelope 

But you've used up all your coupons 

Except the one that seems 

To be tattooed on your arm 

Along with several thousand dreams 

Now Santa Claus comes forward 

That's a razor in his mitt 

And he puts on his dark glasses 

And he shows you where to hit 

And then the cameras pan 

The stand in stuntman's 

Dress rehearsal rag