WANDERING CHILD - Andrew Lloyd Webber Wandering child, so lost, so helpless ... yearning for my guida nce ...
Angel or father ... friend ... or Phantom ... ? Who is it there, staring ... ? Have you forgotten your Angel ... ? Angel ... oh, speak ... What endless longings echo in this whisper ... !
Too long you've wandered in winter ...
Far from my far -reaching gaze ...
Wildly my mind beats against you ... You resist ... Yet your/the soul obeys ...
Angel of Music! You denied me, turning from true beauty ...
Angel of Music! Do not shine me ... Come to your strange Angel!
I am your Angel of Music ...
Come to me: Angel of Music ...
Angel of darkness! Cease this torment!
Christine! Christine listen to me! Whatever you may believe, this man ... this thing ... is not your father! Let her go! For God's sake, let her go! Christine !
Raoul!
Bravo, monsieur! Such spirited words!
More tricks, monsieur?
Let's see, monsie ur, how far you dare go? More deception? More violence? Raoul, no ... That's right, that's right, monsieur - keep walking this way! You can't win her love by making her your prisoner. Raoul, don't ... Stay back!
I'm here, I'm here, monsieur: the Angel of Death!
Come on, come on,monsieur don't stop, don't stop!
Raoul! Come back ...
Don't go!!
So be it! Now let it be war upon you both !
Passarino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan.
Your young guest believes I'm you - I, the master, you, the man.
When you met you wore my cloak, with my scarf you hid your face. She believes she dines with me, in her master's borrowed place!
Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what, in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine . . . You come home! I use your voice - slam the door like crack of doom! I shall say: "come - hide with me! Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!" Poor thing hasn't got a chance! Here's my hat, my cloak and sword. Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh...
". . . no thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy!
No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!"
Master?
Passarino - go away, for the trap is set and waits for its prey!
Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what, in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine . . . You come home! I use your voice - slam the door like crack of doom! I shall say: "come - hide with me! Where, oh, whe
