Evelyn Judy Buehler

March 18, 1953 - Chicago

Phantom, I Reckon

Who the figure from out of dark dreams-
Where she flees in terror and silently screams?
With the looks of a demon! What a heart of love!
And passion for the opera which plays above.

Tears of music fall from his eyes;
A face so tragic, he wears a disguise.
Lonely in love, Phantom's got the blues.
Well, I guess that's nothing new.

Who the man from the shadowy gloom?
I reckon he'd love to be Beauty's groom.
Surely, his voice is the finest ever was.
Why, I wonder? I guess just because...

From other folk, he is mostly hidden,
Yet, often he appears unbidden.
Who could ever guess how his heart bleeds?
Who can tell what such solitude breeds?

Says Opera: "I am tragedy, love fate!"
Says Phantom: "I am your mate!"
And the audience can't speak, can't listen,
Behind the scenes. No, they can't listen.

Who the man cloaked in mystery?
No one knows at all who he be.
From out of deep shadows, I see him beckon.
I've glimpsed The Phantom, I reckon.
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