This is the title song from my musical adaptation of Moliere's
The Imaginary Invalid combined with A Doctor In Spite
of Himself.
If you click on the moon, it will take you to 17th Century France
and the mad wonderful world of France's greatest playwright.
Masquerade
A form, an air, a style,
A look, a touch, a smile,
And soon one discovers
There are many things that help lovers
To beguile.The moon can masquerade as love,
It wears a cloak of dreams.
But one night when the cloak's removed,
How empty moonlight seems!
So you sit and you wonder,
What caused it to grow so cold?
What seemed like a treasure
Has only been fairy gold.
A rose can masquerade as love,
It tells you love is all---
But somehow when the morning comes,
The petals wilt and fall.
You must try to evade
Roses and moons and such---
They're only a masquerade
And they hurt much too much.