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Lyrics:
(From: Into the Woods)
Did I abuse her or show her disdain Why does she run from me If I should lose her how shall I regain The heart she has won from me Agony, beyond power of speech When the one thing you want Is the only thing out of your reach
High in her tower she sits by the hour Maintaining her hair Blithe and becoming and frequently humming A light-hearted air Ah Agony, far more painful than yours When you know she would go with you If there only were doors Agony, all the torture they teach What's as intruiging or half so fatiguing As what's out of reach
Am I not sensitive, clever Well-mannered, considerate Passionate, charming As kind as I'm handsome And heir to a throne? You are everything maidens could wish for Then why no Do I know? The girl must be mad You know nothing of madness 'Til you're climbing her hair And you see her up there as you're nearing her And all the while hearing her Ah Agony, misery, though it's different for each Always ten steps behind, always ten steps below And she's just out of reach Agony, that can cut like a knife I must have her to wife
High in a tower like yours was but higher A beauty asleep All 'round the tower a thicket of briar A hundred feet deep Agony, no frustration more keen When the one thing you want Is a thing that you've not even seen
I've found a casket entirely of glass No, it's unbreakable Inside, don't ask it, a maiden alas Just as unwakeable What unmistakeable Agony, is the way always hard She has skin white as snow Did you learn her name, no There's a dwarf standing guard Agony such that princes must weep Always in thrall 'most to anything almost Or something asleep
If it were not for the thicket A thicket's no trick, is it thick It's the thickest The quickest is pick it apart with a stick Yes but even one prick, it's my thing about blood Well it's sick It's no sicker than your thing about dwarfs Dwarves Dwarfs Dwarves are very upsetting Not forgetting The task's unachievable, mountains unscalable If it's conceivable but unavailable Ah Agony, misery, woe not to know what you miss While they lie there for years And you cry on their biers What unbearable bliss Agony that can cut like a knife Ah well, back to my wife
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