Lo! ’t is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!
That motley drama—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out—out are the lights—out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:19.686]Lo! ’t is a gala night
[00:22.057]Within the lonesome latter years!
[00:24.667]An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
[00:26.742]In veils, and drowned in tears,
[00:29.609]Sit in a theatre, to see
[00:34.074]While the orchestra breathes fitfully
[00:39.268]
[00:58.867]Mimes, in the form of God on high,
[01:00.951]Mutter and mumble low,
[01:02.784]And hither and thither fly—
[01:04.624]Mere puppets they, who come and go
[01:07.533]At bidding of vast formless things
[01:09.887]That shift the scenery to and fro,
[01:13.013]Flapping from out their Condor wings
[01:17.199]Invisible Wo!
[01:18.475]
[01:36.799]That motley drama—oh, be sure
[01:39.386]It shall not be forgot!
[01:40.968]With its Phantom chased for evermore
[01:43.846]By a crowd that seize it not,
[01:46.417]Through a circle that ever returneth in
[01:51.931]And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
[01:54.827]And Horror the soul of the plot.
[01:55.619]
[01:56.655]But see, amid the mimic rout,
[01:58.498]A crawling shape intrude!
[02:00.309]A blood-red thing that writhes from out
[02:03.177]The scenic solitude!
[02:05.266]It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
[02:08.172]The mimes become its food,
[02:10.274]And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
[02:12.652]In human gore imbued.
[02:14.722]
[02:15.251]Out—out are the lights—out all!
[02:19.663]And, over each quivering form,
[02:48.919]The curtain, a funeral pall,
[02:51.530]Comes down with the rush of a storm,
[02:54.920]While the angels, all pallid and wan,
[02:59.093]Uprising, unveiling, affirm
[03:04.068]That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
[03:09.559]And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
Lo! ’t is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!
That motley drama—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out—out are the lights—out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:19.686]Lo! ’t is a gala night
[00:22.057]Within the lonesome latter years!
[00:24.667]An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
[00:26.742]In veils, and drowned in tears,
[00:29.609]Sit in a theatre, to see
[00:34.074]While the orchestra breathes fitfully
[00:39.268]
[00:58.867]Mimes, in the form of God on high,
[01:00.951]Mutter and mumble low,
[01:02.784]And hither and thither fly—
[01:04.624]Mere puppets they, who come and go
[01:07.533]At bidding of vast formless things
[01:09.887]That shift the scenery to and fro,
[01:13.013]Flapping from out their Condor wings
[01:17.199]Invisible Wo!
[01:18.475]
[01:36.799]That motley drama—oh, be sure
[01:39.386]It shall not be forgot!
[01:40.968]With its Phantom chased for evermore
[01:43.846]By a crowd that seize it not,
[01:46.417]Through a circle that ever returneth in
[01:51.931]And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
[01:54.827]And Horror the soul of the plot.
[01:55.619]
[01:56.655]But see, amid the mimic rout,
[01:58.498]A crawling shape intrude!
[02:00.309]A blood-red thing that writhes from out
[02:03.177]The scenic solitude!
[02:05.266]It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
[02:08.172]The mimes become its food,
[02:10.274]And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
[02:12.652]In human gore imbued.
[02:14.722]
[02:15.251]Out—out are the lights—out all!
[02:19.663]And, over each quivering form,
[02:48.919]The curtain, a funeral pall,
[02:51.530]Comes down with the rush of a storm,
[02:54.920]While the angels, all pallid and wan,
[02:59.093]Uprising, unveiling, affirm
[03:04.068]That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
[03:09.559]And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
You can always play on your own ...
You can always play on your own ...
Alone ... (alone, alone, alone ...)
Alone ... (alone, alone, alone ...)
You c...
I fell for one who loved me not,
the same old Lines
was really all that he had got;
then my Illusions, one by one,
they quickly fell apart...-
Not a s...
Tongue of silence, lick my lips,
steal my thoughts, and steal my pride.
My soul lies offered as I'm waiting,
intoxicate me when you step inside...
Hol...
When I was a little child
We often walked the country-side
In brightest sunlight or in rain
My mother took me by the hand
And as she had me in her tow...
Shivering with ... awe ... and delight:
"Here is my throat", he said,“
As he bowed his head ... in silence ... to him.
Behold his white flesh ... shin...
At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
Exhales from out her golden rim,
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal ...
It is safe to sleep alone
In a place no one knows
And to seek life under stones
In a place water flows.
It is best to find in sleep
The missing pieces...
From far beyond the veil of sleep
some ancient voice does seem
weakly, yet solemnly.
So remotely that one might think
it had been but a dream,
echo of...
The little mountain raises
while another is dissolving to a plain
Time redefines itself
and falls in silence grain by grain
Time heals all the wounds
...