Текст песни Father Frankenstein is Behind Your Pillow (Stackridge) с переводом

The sun is up, the sky is red

The dawn has come the stars have fled

Your face so fair a damask rose

Though scorched inside, my feelings grow

You only have to promise you will love me

More than the earth

There’s really no distinctions when

Father Frankenstein is behind your pillow

The Georgian house that hides your name

Reveals to me a picture frame

The tapered silk, the china cups, austere

And to proud for touch

You only have to whisper, and like a slave

I fawn at your feet

In the cold clandestine caverns

Brother Dracula will caress your windpipe

The troopers marching down that turnpike

Road that leads to Glastonbury

With relics of your grandeur once

Entombed at Batheaston Villa

The shadows from the crypt where Leo

Jumped inside your horoscope

Around the haystacks laughing

When your ring was lost

The blinds are drawn, the candles waxed

The cheese and milk lay beside my hat

Your silvery hand had turned the page

Where good Bathsheba had left the stage

Those rainbows in your navel served

To gratify your disdain

And in the scented glades of Adyar

Dear Annie Besant is dusting

Her mausoleum

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