Herr Drosselmeyer's doll
There she is on the stage
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
Her spring is sprung
And dance is done
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
In the morning, he twists the key quite hard
And ticking, she's brought to a boil
"Relevée, my sweet, en pointe, en garde!"
Her innards twang as they uncoil
Herr Doktor's fingertips trace by
On craquelature from every fall
The daylight made to race quite by
With paint and paste and stitch and awl
"Patience, patient bumblebee
Soon your audience admire
A shapely arabesque or three
I'll wind you up, you'll never tire. "
Starry tutu, sullen moue
A frozen carmine mouth
Twinkles as she jerks and swoons
The lady's ushered out
[Spoken] Gentlemen, this fallen angel is the illegitimate daughter of art and science. A modern marvel of engineering, clockworks elevated to the very natural process which even now sets your blood racing and your eyes flashing at such irreproachable beauty. Here is Gaia, here is Eve, here is Lilith, and I stand before you as her father. Sprung fully-formed from my brow, dewy and sweet; she can be yours and yours again, for her flesh is the incorruptible pale--the excuse from the wages of sin!
And as the sackcloth, sodden, slumps
Beneath these chipped and china limbs
The sour flesh pines, grunts, and thumps
"Step right up, boys, tuppence for a spin!"