Lo! Tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An Angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drownd 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 the form of God

Please, be so kind to leave this place,
None of your kin(d) is wanted here;
A dreadful tremor shakes these walls ...-
Your presence vibrates violently.

Over many years we've built the utmost fragile atmosphere,
We can't allow the uninvited visitor(s) to interfere.
The b

Strolling alla
llone cre taven
cradle forse
die call me daie ?

isn't lie she said
come on baby mecanic
hmmer is terror id die
is love broken hearts!