Текст песни: Abstract Thoughts + перевод

Lo! 'tis agala night

Within the lonesome latter years!

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears

Sit in a theatre, to see

A play of hopes and fears

While the orchestra breathes fitfully

The music of the spheres

Mimes, in form of God on high

Mutter and mumbled low

And hither and thither fly

Mere puppets they, who come and go

At biding of vast formless things

That shift the scenary to and fro

Flapping from out of their Condor wings

Invisible Woe!

The 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

To the self-same spot

And much of Madness, and more of Sin

And Horror the soul of the plot

But see, among 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 the angels sob at vermin fangs

In human gore

Imbuted

Out-out are the lights-out all!

And, over each quivering form

The curtain, the funeral pall

Comes down with the rush of a storm

And the angels, all pallid and wan

Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy «Man»

And its hero the

Conqueor worm

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