There's a tall and dark stranger

Standing in front of me

He hides forever in the shadows

His face I cannot see.

But his voice is pure and sweet

Like an angel from above

As he stands in the dark

Mourning for his lost love.

I want to reach out to him

When he crumples in a heap

Sobbing heavily and singing

About a soul wounded deep.

He's a fallen angel

Fallen from heaven's grace

All because he's different

When you look upon his face

Outward beauty does not matter

It's what's inside that counts

But try telling that to him

Who lost everything to the viscount.

So should you travel to the opera house

And hear a muffled cry

Always remember the warning:

"Keep your hand at the level of your eye!"