(gasp) Are you
the spirit of the future?
Won't you speak to me?
Spirit, I fear you more
Than all the ones before
Life is pressing on me fast
Don't show those sad eyes
Poor tiny Tim, poor old man
Take me from this place of stone
No
more, no
more humbug (no more) Take me
to some relief
I repent with all my soul
Cleanse this bitter, withered cold
Look upon this stone,
they say
(look! look!) Look upon the moss and gray
No!
Not me!
Not me! (ahhhh!) I will scrub the carving clean!
Truly I repent
From this night forward,
I am changed
No
more
humbug (no
more...)