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tim minchin - story 3: the trick started well lyrics

[matilda]
the trick started well. the moment the specially-designed dress was set alight, the acrobat swung into the air. the crowd held their breath as she hurled over the sharks and spiky objects. one second. two seconds. they watched as the flames crept up the dress. three seconds. four seconds. she began to reach out her arms towards the cage. five seconds. six seconds! suddenly, the padlocks pinged open, and the huge chains fell away. seven seconds. eight seconds. the door flung open, and the escapologist reached out one huge, muscled arm to catch his wife and their child. nine seconds! ten seconds!

[mrs phelps]
oh, i can’t look!

[matilda]
eleven seconds! and he grabs her hand, and . . . and . . . and suddenly, the flames are covered in foam before they can both be blown to pieces

[mrs phelps]
hooray! so the story does have a happy ending after all

[matilda]
no

[mrs phelps]
no?

[matilda]
no. maybe it was the thought of the child. maybe it was nerves. but the escapologist used just a touch too much foam. and suddenly, their hands became slippy, and she fell

[mrs phelps]
no. was . . . was she okay? did . . . did she survive?

[matilda]
she broke every bone in her body. except for the ones at the ends of her little fingers. she did manage to live long enough to have their child, but the effort was too great. “love our little girl,” she said. “love our daughter with all your heart. she was all we ever wanted.”

[acrobat]
love our girl with everything. she is everything

[matilda]
and then, she died
and then, things got worse

[mrs phelps]
what? “worse”? oh, no, matilda. not worse. they can’t get worse

[matilda]
i’m afraid they did. because the escapologist was so kind that he never for one second blamed the evil sister for what happened. in fact, he asked her to move in and help look after his daughter. she was nothing but rude to the little girl, making her wash, iron, cook, and clean, and beating her if she did a thing wrong. but always in secret, so that the escapologist never suspected a thing. and so the poor little girl grew up with the meanest, cruelest, horrible-est aunt you can possible imagine!

- tim minchin lyrics

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