Lyrics:

(Note These Spoken Words Appear Only
on The Remastered 1987 Version,
narrated By Orson Welles)

shadows Of Shadows Passing.
it Is Now 1831, And As Always, I Am Absorbed With A Delicate Thought.
it Is How Poetry Has Indefinite Sensations, To Which End Music In Inessential,
since The Comprehension Of Sweet Sound Is Our Most Indefinite Conception.
music, When Combined With A Pleasurable Idea, Is Poetry.
music, Without The Idea, Is Simply Music.
without Music, Or An Intriguing Idea, Color Becomes Pallor;
man Becomes Carcass;
home Becomes Catacomb;
the Dead, Are But For A Moment, Motionless.

Instrumental