| I’m the phantom of my own Opera
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| Oh don’t I know it
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| And I think of you, sweetheart
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| I’m lurking in the shadows
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| Of my memory
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| We were going to have a circus in the barn
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| But the creature lurks among us
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| The ghost of our past
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| The ghost of our love
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| And if I had my own way
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| I always say that phrase
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| I thought it was a phase
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| But it wasn’t
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| And so here I am
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| In my baggy-clown costume
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| Perform any funny trick and throw a kiss
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| To the audience
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| And I’m wearing a mask
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| But you don’t have to ask
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| Who I’m thinking about
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| And there’s a monkey in the background
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| Hung by a rope from the ceiling
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| And I’m the villain, acting fierce
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| And stretching whiskers too fully
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| The phantom wears a black coat
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| Long trousers and a derby
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| Stands erect
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| And cracks the whip loudly
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| I’m the phantom of my own opera
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| I perform all the parts
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| And I think of you, sweetheart
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| I’m even the audience
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| And I can’t help thinking
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| We were going to have a circus in the barn
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| Can’t pull the curtain
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| I can’t help remembering
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| Turn a somersault after singing a verse
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| And the song is never ending
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| And I never quit rehearsing
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| A performance of a sad and twisted art
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| And if I had my own way
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| I don’t know what I’d do
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| I probably wish it was you |