Bells of sorrow toll in my head

Dreaming dreams that have long been passed dead

Melodies of emptiness wrote on my score

That has lasted through the final overture

Songs of songs, they relieve no pain

The heart of my work is in the refrain

Alone in shadows concealing my abhorrent face

In the mirrors, the truth has all been erased

Shattered and broken the organ no longer plays

I live in solitude for the remainder of my days

Under the catacombs masked and unloved

For what kind of world would want me above

My angel, take this rose for your voice

For if you do make your last choice

I will wait for you, my love, till the end

Until I whither and my tunes age and bend

In the darkness the imagination our fantasies take flight

For I am the composer of the music of the night

Dedication to the Phantom of the Opera