Theatre Of Tragedy

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A Hamlet For A Slothful Vassal

Behold a jocund morn indeed! -
Sun on high - birds in sky.
Yonder the whist firth eathing,
Fro where a gale erranteth.

Ye beholdest but the shadow.
That is a lie!
Mayhap a tithe of trothplight -
Lief I am not!
I deem - e'er and anon!
My words are but a twist.
Tis a feigned lie through loathing,
I say!
To and fro, save hither,
Is thy love.
A dotard gaffer, I daresay...
Not a loth! -
But vying for my kinsmen!
...a sapling not!
Beautiful tyrant!
Fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven!
Wolvish-ravening lamb!
A hamlet for a slothful vassal -
Soothing ale for a parched sot.
Hie to tell me
What judgest as naught;
I behold the shadow!
Wherefore call me such names;
Nay imp am I!
Thou art my aghast hart -
Grazing in the glade.

E'er thou sayest aye!
That is a lie!
Thief of a plot!
Lief I am not!
Now go to thy tryst!
My words are but a twist!
Go, leave, totter!
Fare well! - with joy I came,
Until dwindlest.
With rue I leave
A morsel, nay more,
Even the orb cannot
For thy journey
Help me melt the ice?!
Hither and thither!

Siren

[Words by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Haste not thine wisdom, for the hollow is ta'en -
By whom, know I not; 'lack! am I of twain -
And as a crux - cede I my words -
Fro my heart wilt thou ne'er
Have I been 'sooth sinsyne.
Be left without - come!

Thine voice is oh so sweet, I speer thine pine,
Ryking for me:
Ryking for thee;
"List and heed", thou say'st
Wistful, whistful -
Chancing to lure.
Chancing to lure,
Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -
Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath!

Mayhap lured by the scent of lote -
'Od! - the foetid - eft hie back I mote;
For what I did my soul atrounced,
How I wish for thee again,
O! do believe me, 'twasn't a frounce.
Will I give thee it: Troth.

Thine voice is oh so sweet, I speer thine pine,
Ryking for me:
Ryking for thee;
"List and heed", thou say'st
Wistful, whistful -
Chancing to lure.
Chancing to lure,
Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -
Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath!

Samantha

[Bonus track]

[Words by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Cede the wherefores and do na chide,
Maybe I am peenging - ween of joy;
Cede the wherefores and do na chide -
Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee, and yore was 'gal.

Riddance,
Sith the one.

Venus

[Words by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Circa mea pectora multa sunt suspiria
De tua pulchritudine, que me ledunt misere.

Venus! - I trow'd thou wast my friend -
Professed to Heaven thou wouldst send;
As a disciple of a villain
Didst thou act the tragedienne.

Iam amore virginali totus ardeo.
Amor volat undique, captus est libidine.

Venus! - I trow'd thou wast my friend -
Professed to Heaven thou wouldst send;
As a disciple of a villain
Didst thou act the tragedienne.

Iam amore virginali totus ardeo.
Circa mea pectora multa sunt suspiria
De tua pulchritudine, que me ledunt misere.
Tui lucent oculi sicut solis radij,
Sicut splendor fulguris, qui lucem donat tenebris.

Poppea

[Words by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Dream of a funeral, blest temptress - behest me! -
A funeral thou'lt hark, swarth murderess - the Devil,
Thine feral grith with me, Poppea, be Hell's hap;
Waylaid the beldame bawd, the niggard: Laughing tragedy.

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
Stay my adamant -
Suffer me to transfix thee;
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
Let me dawt thine twain -
And, twine 'hem apart.

Of marrow, do na mell; I am Morelle -
The bosom'd Titivil; travail me; a f�in,
Subdue me with thine lote in oneness - make haste yet,
Displode me in a font - Poppea, do what thou wilt.

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
Stay my adamant -
Suffer me to transfix thee;
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
Let me dawt thine twain -
And, twine 'hem apart.

Bacchante

[Words by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Ado with a mean woe,
An ado as aglow:
Belying the paynim
Thou rewrot'st the tome -
An ivy-crown'd and dancing,
And fawn'd and trancing -
Espying the surly wud,
And heeding her not.

Celebration

Afear'd of Bacchante,
And dost thou 'hold the yill? -
Behind is the sleepless;
Eyne 'holding na mo.

Celebration

�Onto the paper scribe I the words that fro my heart move -
With every dight letter, with the ebb of ink,
The point of the quill my penmanship doth mirror;
Tales of theft and adultery,
Tales of devilment and witchery -

Tales of me.

Celebration Bacchari

Virago

[only on Japanese Edition]

Twit me, I am thy tyke;
Meekness for thee aught.

Yerk me to weal daut',
Sweven nor Muse
Wad taw me to this ruddy hue -
Wark aptly my drear,
'Hesting dirdum:
Heyday! - a swingeing shrew.

Skelp me - gar me pain,
Pray soft; tender ache.

Yerk me to weal daut',
Sweven nor Muse
Wad taw me to this ruddy hue -
Wark aptly my drear,
'Hesting dirdum:
Heyday! - a swingeing shrew.

Machine

Look up here
Look down there
I am the new man
I'm tangled in wires
Chipset adept
Memory load
Keep your vogue code that all have
Tomorrow's world we've all seen
Keep your modern ways
And keep your bugs
The Metal Man is here to stay

Talk talk
You say I only work, all night and day
Talk talk
Do say 'Use me, I'm cheap to rent'

Computerised
Voice synthesised
Call me the mech man
In a world of machines
What can I do but to serve
Store the data and calculate
Speak and spell and operate
Engineer the rail and motorway
Automaton of yesterday

Talk talk
You say I only work, all night and day
Talk talk
Do say 'Use me, I'm cheap to rent'

City Of Light

High-rise buildings
Low cost apartments
Financial district
Industrial area
Rows of blue collars
Steelworkers' clink-clang
Metal rhythm left and right
This is the city, city of light

Flicker
Click on
Click off
Click on
The faceless men
The machines of the city

6 p.m. whistle
Next the inner city
Smiling grimey faces
Tea at the local pub
Low-cut dresses
High-spirited workers
Sizzling neon-lights, click on
This is the city, city of light

Flicker
Click on
Click off
Click on
The faceless men
The machines of the city

2 a.m. binge
Low-life slagheap
Used up and burnt out
Like a kick in the teeth
Ramble, shamble on home
Grime back in harness
Metal rhythm left and right
This is the city, city of light

Flicker
Click on
Click off
Click on
The faceless men
The machines of the city

Fragment

Broken frames
Shattered glass
Like a monochrome film
The replaceable background
Flickers and dissolves
Out of control

There's no sense, it's all Volta, Amphere and Ohm
Earth to Moon, it's the same as London-Rome

Out of focus, blurred image
As solid as a liquid monument
A second of life
The time-frame of '69
Technology, machinery, humanity
It's all the same

There's no sense, it's all Volta, Amphere and Ohm
Earth to Moon, it's the same as London-Rome

Time and age, what's the difference
Based upon the same reference
Touch-and-go, who's to know the random order
Contorted, distorted it doesn't make any sense at all
A fragment, a segment - bits and pieces, bits and Hz
Angular, circular
It's all the same

There's no sense, it's all Volta, Amphere and Ohm
Earth to Moon, it's the same as London-Rome

Musique

I synthesise and press a lighted key
Turn it on, compose a melody
Redo from start, I need more rhythm
1 and 4 was for the Commodore
A catchy beat, I put it on repeat
I program more, but still it's incomplete
Start and stop, where's the perfect pitch?
I won't give up until I tap my feet.

I'm gonna make a perfect line
Gonna make it stick to your mind
I won't give up that magic rhyme
Got to hear it just one more time

Computer music is just like oxygen
Try and fail, again, again, again
I need the recipe for the perfect melody
I add more tracks, run out of DSP
Timbre and tone, I want it synthetic
Knobs and sliders, no button pushing matrix
Dadaistic, nothing too profound
Electric music resounding all around

I'm gonna make a perfect line
Gonna make it stick to your mind
I won't give up that magic rhyme
Got to hear it just one more time

Commute

Mobile phones
Commuter trains
The Terminus is full of men
Crisscross network
Zigzag railway
The next stop is Waterloo

White-collar timetable
9 to 5 urban robot

Standby, I'm on a trip with you
Standby, I thought it lasted through
Standby, I'm on a trip with you
It's more fun to commute

Take the Tube
Take the M25
There's traffic jam all around
Double-decker
A fare to Chequers
To tell about my points of view

Standby, I'm on a trip with you
Standby, I thought it lasted through
Standby, I'm on a trip with you
It's more fun to commute

Public transport
No need for comfort
It's all so and so, touch-and-go
Pass a train wreck
Call the tube-tech
I'll make it to work some other day

White-collar timetable
9 to 5 urban robot

Standby, I'm on a trip with you
Standby, I thought it lasted through
Standby, I'm on a trip with you
It's more fun to commute

He pulls
She pushed
I read the papers in the transit lounge
I dial the number
Now I'm certain
I'll make it home some other day

Radio

Electric broadcast
The new transmission waves
Turn the dial
Transistor radio
The deadpan voice I want to hear
Receive the news
Receive the tunes
We've tuned in to the ether melody
It's bright and clear and full of energy
Music won't stop
Electro pop
Commercial workshop
I want your time, I need your time to make a rhyme

On the radio now
Ether melody news
For you and me

Antennae beaming sound, news and speech
Marconi's words
'Let it be so'
Apparatus signal it out
Information
Communication
We're in the building of the wireless voice
Static morse
Radar, television
The interference
Incoherence
Scrambled signals
I want your waves
Spectral sound
Tune in, tune out

On the radio now
Ether melody news
For you and me

Radio for you and me
The airwaves are fully free
Radio for you and me
Oscillating energy

On the radio now
Ether melody news
For you and me

Image

You act a pansy, pushover
Do live your fancy, go lower
Who is that, something says your name
You seem chancy, moreover
The call is mine

I'm gonna get you up
I wanna get on top
The call is mine

On the skew, you're dancing all over
You are the anti-fashion statement
In a blue suit, orange pullover
You look like my old dog Rover

I'm gonna get you up
I wanna get on top
The call is mine

Crash / Concrete

[lyrics by Raymond I. Rohonyi]
[music by Theatre of Tragedy]

Head crash - I can't see you
Spit teeth - I can hear you
I feel your pounding me onto the street
I've learned to know the taste of concrete

Why don't you follow me?

Street brash - time flies, tick-tock
Eyes flash - feels like electroshock
I feel the blood gushing, crumbling away
I know this marks the end of my hey-day

Why don't you follow me?

Retrospect

Here we are
We stand in line
One more time today
There is no sense
The cigarette in hand
It's all gone bad
No name, privilege, no hope and fame

We've seen it all before
And it seems like a mirror of our future

We were waiting for something
We were listening to the heartbeats
It could take us
It could take our names; it's the same as no hope and fame

We've seen it all before
And it seems like a mirror of our future

This is no age for us
It seems we're out of class
We are fragile
Like statues made of sand

We've seen it all before
And it seems like a mirror of our future

Reverie

Car-crash and an elevator
Make you someone else
Never try yourself
Restore you
Tick-tock clock and teddy boys
Bop 'till you're fagged out
Open windows shout
She wore me, she wore you

Walk these streets
She's concrete
Reverie
All is free

Knick-knack, flashy bric-a-brac
Seesaw heartbeat, she is back
Windscreen eyes are black and blue
She saw you
The Fleet Street scooter-boys are due
They want to see you
You're vogue and hip and on a rendezvous
Adore you

Walk these streets
She's concrete
Reverie
All is free

Space Age

Space age pioneers
Exporing the outer spheres
Stars, planets, cosmos
Sterne, Planeten, Kosmos

The New Man

Broken bottles, and a broken nose
No reason not to lounge in a pose
I could stand in shade light and laugh at you
You were wrong - it's happened to you too

This is the new circuit
Tell me of your pain
'Shove you around?', now close the door
This is not love
This is my sort of softly touching you
A Brownian motion of whacks on your face
'Who are you?'

Hat-stand man-man in a fancy suit
He's a laugh, it's him and Jim and his prostitute
Gold teeth spat out onto the concrete street
Get into the car with its vinyl seats

This is the new circuit
Tell me of your pain
'Shove you around?', now close the door
This is not love
This is my sort of softly touching you
A Brownian motion of whacks on your face
'who are you?'
This is not the new man
'who are you?'
This is not the new man
This is not love

Samantha

Cede the wherefores and do na chide,
Maybe I am peenging - ween of joy;
Cede the wherefores and do na chide -
Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee, and yore was 'gal.

Riddance,
Sith the one

Cede the wherefores and do na chide -
Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee, and yore was 'gal.

Riddance,
Sith the one

Virago

Twit me, I am thy tyke;
Meekness for thee aught.

Yerk me to weal daut',
Sweven nor Muse
Wad taw me to this ruddy hue -
Wark aptly my drear,
'Hesting dirdum:
Heyday! - a swingeing shrew.

Skelp me - gar me pain,
Pray soft; tender ache.

Yerk me to weal daut',
Sweven nor Muse
Wad taw me to this ruddy hue -
Wark aptly my drear,
'Hesting dirdum:
Heyday! - a swingeing shrew.

Automatic Lover

Don't you wanna end up with this mister?
He is just being nice with his kisses and he
Thinks you're not one of the smart ones Say it darling
Doesn't seem like you want that kind of honey, honey
From the automatic lover's store To the first floor of your backroom door
From the spin-spin of the fickle swirl
In a freak-freak dance of the showroom girl
From the window of the red lit shop To the hop-hop of the fluid swap
To the bang-bang when the wallet's gone
And the run-run when the heat is on From the automatic lover's store
To the first floor of your homeroom door
And the cry-cry of your better half To the laugh-laugh at your minuscule staff
From the plead-plead when you really want in
To the knead-knead 'fore the blanket-spin
From the flush-flush of the bed-time art
To the raging heart when she doesn't do her part
Don't you wanna end up with this mister?
He is just being nice with his kisses and he
Thinks you're not one of the smart ones
Say it darling Doesn't seem like you want that kind of honey, honey
Out the door-door to the dance-dance hall
To the bawl-bawl of the bar room brawl
From the drink-drink until on the floor
To the blink-blink of the girl next door
To the rock-rock until off the hinge
To the luck-luck to complete the binge
From the rush-rush when you're feeling bored
To the second floor of your homeroom door
To the plead-plead when you really want in
And the knead-knead 'fore the blanket-spin
From the fug-fug of the bedroom air
To the hug-hug of the professional lair
To the automatic lover's store
Where it feel-feels much less like a chore
To the lick-lick of the lipstick lip
To the electric trip of the perfect strip
Hey you are you oh-oh are you I owe you a go-go are you
Nothing but an oh-oh yeah
I owe you a kissy baby Hey you are you oh-oh are you
I owe you a go-go are you Nothing but an oh-oh yeah
I owe you a kissy baby.

Universal Race

The pulsing of the flare reflected in the air
Stick-stuck goggles deflecting the stare
Underground, overdrive
Countdown, take off
We're gone, they're here
Head for planets far and near
Don't know what upsets you
We're gonna take you to the outer space
Find planets - red, blue
Let's make a universal race
We're gonna take you to places never seen
A rigid-like gesture since we were nineteen
Inner space, outer space
Head off, head on Slot in, interface
Bounce back and forth like electrons
We're gonna take you to planets never seen
Solar systems run by machines
Out of code Crash, reboot
'Redo from Start', who is he anyway?
Don't know what upsets you
We're gonna take you to the outer space
Find planets - red, blue aha
Let's make a universal race.

Episode

Moving sideways through the sold photo
Slow figures flashing on tiptoe
Crashing cars on a blue tableau
Goes to show it wasn't everywhere
No one steering, just an auto-move
Round and round the streetlights in the groove
Flying windscreens, dropping down below
Aisles of bricks, crumbling with the smoke
Here we go
Dissolving turnpikes in a placid light
Intersections similarly white
I never found the concrete slab
I must have left it on the showroom tab
Escalators moving side to side
Round and round the footprints on the slide
From a picture, the city turned and spoke
There she was, the woman in the smoke
Here we go I think you suit me I'll make you happy
You specify me You can't deny me
Must have left my eyes on a moving train
Tangled phone lines told me to revoke
Turgid reasons, everything's mundane
There she was, the woman in the smoke Here we go
I guess you suit me Do you extend me?
You maximise me You can't deny me
I think you suit me I'll make you happy .

Play

She fills the rich kitsch niche where she sits
Making chit-chat, this and that, from the bits
Consumed, perfumed, detracts the room despite
Glowing, knowing she can head for the limelight
She's too rich for her men
She won't stay, what a shame
A shame She won't fit in his world
She exists for the game
A shame Tricky repertoire
Words flying 'round
Picky seminar
Bound to be drowned in the sound
Sticky shirt and tie
Play 'Bottoms Up' in the bar
Icky, fly guy - why,
She's nastier by far
It's appeasing how she wanna flaunt her fur
His mind's but a blur
He's derailing from his train of thought
Doing not what he ought and was taught
He's trying to flick quick, but she waged the pages stick
Someone must have gone click, click, click, click
Can't see what's new, he doesn't have a clue
Of what to do with the woman he thought that he knew
She's too rich for her men
She won't stay, what a shame
A shame She won't fit in his world
She exists for the game A shame.

Superdrive

Turn baby, turn
You've got the feeling for it
I'm the music
Dance with me, sway
Are you ready for me?
Take a chance on me.
Turn baby, turn
You've got the feeling for it
I'm in tune now
Sing to me, say
Are you ready for me?
Take a chance on me
The downtown boy in a daylight rouse
Getting ready for the night's ploy
And he's waiting on top a topless house
Or sliding down to his luminous, viscose clothes
I want to go with that French girl
She said, "Sure, do you want to make friends with me?"
Tres bien, tres bien
Hey, I'm not crying anymore
Turn baby, turn
You've got the feeling for it
I'm the music
Dance with me, sway
Are you ready for me?
Take a chance on me.
He put on his shirt knowing he's pert
Tearing 'cross the crowd in a gloss
He said, " Missy, don't be so pushy, eh"
Or thought he did it anyway
The words that he knew,
'Voulez-vous', 'Rendezvous'
Just made him black and blue
He wanted to go-go
She said, "No-no"
So he's waiting for next episode
I want to go with that French girl
She said, "Sure, do you want to make friends with me?"
Tres bien, tres bien
Hey, I'm not crying anymore.