My Mother Bore Me
Phantom:
My mother bore me, in the southern wild. I live in darkness, but my soul is light. Light as the forehead of an English child. But I'm in darkness and bereaved of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, and sitting down before the heat of day, she took me on her lap, and kissed me, and pointing to the east, began to say. Look upon the rising sun, their God does live, and gives his light and gives his heat away, and all the trees, and flowers, and beasts, and men, receive their comfort from the morning through the bright noon day. And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bare the beams of love, and these poor bodies and this ravaged face, are but a cloud, and like a shady grove... For when our souls have learned the heat to bare, the clouds will vanish, we will hear his voice saying, Come out from the grove my love and care, and around my golden tent like lambs rejoice. Thus did my mother say and kissed me, and thus I say to little English boy, when we are both from light and dark clouds free, and round the tent of God we both rejoice. I will shade him from the heat, till he can bare to lean in joy upon out father's knee, and then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, and be like him, and he will then love me. Voices in my night will cry Christine, and every drop of rain that falls, will be Christine. You are the only one, my only chance of happiness, my golden leaf of autumn, my Christine. Look within this heart of mine, Christine. The very constant soul and music, of Christine. Behind this mortal mask, this terror of a face conceals, the gesture and the grace of you, Christine. No one else must ever have Christine, if not for me you'd be for no one else, Christine. If I am guilty, I'll be guilty of, An innocents who's name is love. And never, no never will you ever be, for anyone else and except for me. I damn you when I love, and I love you, and I damn you, My Christine!
Phantom:
My mother bore me, in the southern wild. I live in darkness, but my soul is light. Light as the forehead of an English child. But I'm in darkness and bereaved of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, and sitting down before the heat of day, she took me on her lap, and kissed me, and pointing to the east, began to say. Look upon the rising sun, their God does live, and gives his light and gives his heat away, and all the trees, and flowers, and beasts, and men, receive their comfort from the morning through the bright noon day. And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bare the beams of love, and these poor bodies and this ravaged face, are but a cloud, and like a shady grove... For when our souls have learned the heat to bare, the clouds will vanish, we will hear his voice saying, Come out from the grove my love and care, and around my golden tent like lambs rejoice. Thus did my mother say and kissed me, and thus I say to little English boy, when we are both from light and dark clouds free, and round the tent of God we both rejoice. I will shade him from the heat, till he can bare to lean in joy upon out father's knee, and then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, and be like him, and he will then love me. Voices in my night will cry Christine, and every drop of rain that falls, will be Christine. You are the only one, my only chance of happiness, my golden leaf of autumn, my Christine. Look within this heart of mine, Christine. The very constant soul and music, of Christine. Behind this mortal mask, this terror of a face conceals, the gesture and the grace of you, Christine. No one else must ever have Christine, if not for me you'd be for no one else, Christine. If I am guilty, I'll be guilty of, An innocents who's name is love. And never, no never will you ever be, for anyone else and except for me. I damn you when I love, and I love you, and I damn you, My Christine!
