Scent in the air, stars in the sky
Look, it's a real gala night!
Demons in red, angels in white
Sinners in veils all bedight

They seat in a theatre, together to see
A new play of old hopes and fears
Where there's much of madness and there's more of sin, the plots horrid soul it begins

Mimes toss about, makes a great noise
Thinking they're like Gods on high
They turn around, lift up their voice
Hither and tither they fly
Mere puppets they are, they come and they go
At biddings of vast formless things
That shift on the scene and flap through the storm, the woe from out their condor wings

Turn off the lights, to warn the lookers-on
Turn off the lights, you know the show is starting on, turn off the lights
In the theatre of pain!

Tense atmosphere, they scream and shout,
That motley drama be sure,
Will never end, never run out,
Will never come to a stop!

Some Thing always hunted by a crowd seizing not, through a circle to self-same spot
Until final curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm
Turn on the lights, warn the lookers-on
Turn on the lights, we promise the break will not be long
Turn on the lights

In the theatre of pain!
Turn on the lights
In the theatre of pain!

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