Werkraum - La fée verte lyrics

Autumn: The light quickly fades And a veil of fog enshronds the street lamps. Inside: The hour dawns green. Thime for the parfait gla** and ornate spoon. Carefully: With care approaching reverence, The sugar cubes beneath the water drip. Then: The first sip: 'Ah, that's on the proverbial mark For the right proper level of tart!' Icy opaline green-pale As the fog by gray. Overcast and drizzle, a bone-chilling day. Come, my Muse! Let us retreat to the warm green mansions of La Fée Verte.