A wicked fellow in father's room
His voice with darkness announcing doom.
The boy behind the curtain easy to find
losing his father, his sight and his mind
As a man with no fear, for a woman he cares
But the heaviest footsteps head up the stairs.
The fellow so dreadful with that croaking throat
Hawking those gla**es from inside his coat.
Sneering motions, laughter so hideous
That ash-grey coat, it is Coppelius...
This must be a dream, a phantasy of fever
That beauty of the moon, a pleasant thought of love
While thoughts of the puppet fade from his mind
His gla**es work their magic, again he goes blind
The ash-grey coat staring out of the crowd
Those screams of d**h, sickening and loud...
Sneering motions, laughter so hideous
That ash-grey coat, it is Coppelius...
Sneering laughter, hateful and nausious?
That coat disappears, where is Coppelius?