Scent in the air, stars in the sky Look, it's a real gala night! Demons in red, angels in white Sinners in veils all bedight They seat in a theatre, together to see A new play of old hopes and fears Where there's much of madness and there's more of sin, the plots horrid soul it begins Mimes toss about, makes a great noise Thinking they're like Gods on high They turn around, lift up their voice Hither and tither they fly Mere puppets they are, they come and they go At biddings of vast formless things That shift on the scene and flap through the storm, the woe from out their condor wings Turn off the lights, to warn the lookers-on Turn off the lights, you know the show is starting on, turn off the lights In the theatre of pain! Tense atmosphere, they scream and shout, That motley drama be sure, Will never end, never run out, Will never come to a stop! Some Thing always hunted by a crowd seizing not, through a circle to self-same spot Until final curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm Turn on the lights, warn the lookers-on Turn on the lights, we promise the break will not be long Turn on the lights In the theatre of pain! Turn on the lights In the theatre of pain!