Trans-Siberian Orchestra: Queen Of The Winter Night

(NARRATION)
He could have stayed there the entire night.
For to him music was the voice of God.
For it never needed translation.
And could lift up lives that were often quite hard
But then he heard a different kind of music
From somewhere else close by And he followed the trail of those new notes
Till he found himself outside
The notes led him to a blues bar
That was right next to the hotel
And the angel watched some lonely people enter it
And wondered if this
Was where all the lonely people did dwell
Then another guardian angel Who happened to be near Told him about the old blues bar And whispered in his ear "Here the tragically beautiful And the beautifully tragic Drift through this night In a last quest for magic Their faces are masks That so artfully disguise The wounds in their hearts The scars in their eyes Now these scars in their eyes Never hurt, never bleed But like cracks in a mirror They distort all they see For when the heart's an open wound Its greatest threat, I fear Is that the salt rubbed into it Does come from one's own tears Now there are many places on this earth That one thinks that god has forgot But one can often find an angel or a saint Where one assumes angels and saints are not" And then the other angel reminded him Of their lord's point of view "You'll know them not by how they appear You'll know them by what they do" So when the next patron went inside The angel followed him undetected But what he found within that bar Was not quite what he expected There was an old piano player there Playing with a honky-tonk sound And everyone who entered that place depressed That piano player turned their night around And one by one he'd draw each person Out of their self-imposed cage And before they realized it He had them singing on the stage


(QUEEN OF THE WINTER NIGHT)