Opera

Album cover art for "Opera" by T.S. Eliot

T.S. Eliot - Non-Music

Opera

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Lyrics

Tristan and Isolde 'And the fatalistic horns The passionate violins And ominous clarinet; And love torturing itself To emotion for all there is in it, Writhing in and out Contorted in paroxysms, Flinging itself at the last 'Limits of self-expression. We have the tragic? oh no! Life departs with a feeble smile Into the indifferent. These emotional experiences Do not hold good at all,   And I feel like the ghost of youth At the undertakers' ball.

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Credits

Writers
  • T.S. Eliot