The Dolls Of New Albion: A Steampunk Opera<\/p>\n
Act 1:<\/p>\n
New Albion 1<\/p>\n
(Scene: The steampunk city of New Albion. Our Narrator appears to take us on a guided tour.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nSeveral hundred years before
\nA gambler and a monk embarked
\nOn a long trek through the endless prairies of the North
\nThey had a fierce debate
\nAbout Gd and chance and fate
\nand to resolve it agreed a game of cards indeed be played<\/p>\n
The game went on all day
\nAnd through the next and next they played
\nAnd around them a shelter was built to shield the rain
\nA street around the shelter formed
\nThen a church, a house, a bar
\nAnd that is how the city of New Albion was born
\nThat is how the city of New Albion was born<\/p>\n
New Albion today
\nWith bustling streets, machines, cafes
\nAnd the nice, the wise, the eccentric and insane
\nThe Mafia\u2019s run by
\nA red haired dwarf with just one eye
\nWhose affairs he decides with a pair of silver dice<\/p>\n
Over the Zeppelin Union Pilots
\nA castrati boss presides
\nAnd we hear his song each afternoon as he flies by
\nThere\u2019s prisons made of lead
\nAnd gargoyles of iron shreds
\nAnd Annabelle McAlistair who\u2019s raising up the dead
\nAnnabelle McAlistair who\u2019s raising up the dead<\/p>\n
The Lodge on Ashland Street
\nIs where the Alchemists Guild meets
\nAnd to join you have to craft a glass pearl from a young girl\u2019s dream
\nA group of thieves they heard
\nBroke in the lodge to steal the pearls
\nBut In the morning they were found there sitting staring unperturbed<\/p>\n
The twilight fog they say
\nAn aphrodisiac contains
\nNonsense, but yet they copulate in doorways anyway
\nThere\u2019s inventors and inbred
\nIn upper classes it\u2019s been said
\nAnd Annabelle McAlistair who\u2019s raising up the dead.
\nAnnabelle McAlistair who\u2019s raising up the dead.<\/p>\n
Annabelle Raises The Dead<\/p>\n
(Scene: Inside Annabelle McAlistair\u2019s laboratory. It\u2019s littered with all manner of Victorian era scientific equipment and machinery. Seated in a chair in the center of it all is a machinelike mannequin. Annabelle is frantically rushing about the lab in preparation.)<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nWinding all the dials and the wires and the spires and the
\ntests for the connections and injections still to run
\nCapacitors and meters and the alkali and beakers
\nThe restating of equations for the phase about to come<\/p>\n
Please come back to me there\u2019s so much we could be
\nPlease come back, with voltage i invoke
\nPlease come back from empty cracks and berths of black
\nCome to me, i\u2019m summoning the Ghost<\/p>\n
Be my angel, my angel
\nBe my angel, rescue me
\nbe my angel, my angel
\nbe an angel be with me<\/p>\n
chorus:
\nPlease come back from bowels of black
\nFrom silent shores to me once more
\nThrough veils and gates and seas of slate
\nTo blood wet moors where i await ashore<\/p>\n
Years of all my theories and hypothesis and inquiries
\nNo gathering cadavers and they kicked me out of school
\nAll alone with theorems and experiments and endless tests
\nYears in labs and numberlands but now i\u2019ve reached the goal<\/p>\n
Please come back so we can have a life at last
\nPlease come back, i grab at heaven\u2019s throat
\nPlease come back, i beckon, beg and cry and laugh
\nCome to me, i\u2019m summoning the ghost<\/p>\n
Be my angel, my angel
\nBe my angel, rescue me
\nbe my angel, be my angel
\nbe an angel be<\/p>\n
chorus:
\nPlease come back from bowels of black
\nfrom silent shores to me once more
\nThrough veils and gates and seas of slate
\nTo blood wet moors where i await ashore<\/p>\n
(She sings quietly and tenderly to the mannequin construct)<\/p>\n
Please come speak to me
\nPlease come speak to me
\nAll the things we can share and conceive
\nif you’ll come speak to me<\/p>\n
I remember you from school
\nYou were dashing and i so uncool
\nYou didn’t know i was alive until that one night
\nwe spoke and you kissed me<\/p>\n
But then i was expelled
\nYou married her as well
\nand now you\u2018ve died, but i can bring you back to life
\nand soon you’ll speak to me<\/p>\n
(She gradually gets more and more impassioned)<\/p>\n
Be my angel, be my angel
\nBe my angel, rescue me
\nBe my angel, be my angel
\nBe an angel be with me (3x)<\/p>\n
Please come back so we can have a life at last
\nPlease come back, i grab at heaven\u2019s throat
\nPlease come back, i beckon, beg and cry and laugh
\nCome to me, i\u2019m summoning the ghost<\/p>\n
chorus:
\nPlease come back from bowels of black
\nFrom silent shores to me once more
\nThrough veils and gates and seas of slate
\nTo blood wet moors where i await ashore<\/p>\n
(Annabelle throws the switch)<\/p>\n
Annabelle Has A Doll<\/p>\n
(Narrator enters.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nAnd so around 3 AM,
\na recently deceased man
\nfound himself wound in the land of living again<\/p>\n
Bound in a body,
\nof gears and wheels but oddly
\nhe has no voice and his steel joints barely can bend<\/p>\n
The one sound he makes in fact
\nHe streams radio broadcasts
\nHe plays a country station if you give him a pat<\/p>\n
Our dearest Annabel is
\nquite thrilled and ecstatic
\nShe has a friend who just was dead and yet she brought back<\/p>\n
(Narrator sings to an oblivious Annabelle who is dressing the life size mechanical doll up to take out)<\/p>\n
What may please does not content
\nall resolves but never ends
\nall that comforts is not true
\nall you love does not love you<\/p>\n
(Annabelle takes her doll with her everywhere like a romantic partner. The Mannequin itself is quite stiff and helpless.)<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nI have a dolly and we like to go on walks
\nWe like to stroll around the park all while he listens to me talk
\nabout the people and the places that i never got to see
\n\u2018cause i wouldn’t leave my house, but that’s before he was with me<\/p>\n
We share a world, which is wonderful to see it’s like a dream
\nwhere no one calls me failure if i don’t succeed<\/p>\n
I have a dolly it’s like flowers in the spring
\nand but no matter how i talk to him he never says a thing<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nWhat may please does not content
\nall resolves but never ends
\nall that comforts is not true
\nall you love does not love you<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nI have a dolly and he goes with me outside
\nwhich used to be a problem for me oh but now i never mind
\nIce cream and carriages i always thought were nice
\nbut never had someone to share them with because the lab’s my life<\/p>\n
Annabelle no friends you must be brilliant and the best
\nyou must be better and industrious, or you are worthless<\/p>\n
But now i have dolly a dear friend with whom i go
\nout for walk and talks but he’s mute and just plays the radio<\/p>\n
(Jasper is playing a song to communicate but Annabelle is unaware of it)<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nElysium
\nThe place the when your sorrows end
\nWhy\u2019d you bring me here again<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nI have a dolly who can keep me company
\nWe go to shows, parades and cabarets though people stare at me
\nBut i’ve shown that i am brilliant and i’ve conquered life and death
\nThe only thing my father said is that one must be a success<\/p>\n
And now i’ve got a friend, a silent clockwork double
\nwho can be there for me to lean on when i feel sad and troubled<\/p>\n
I have a dolly, and he’s very stabling if not a little just too distant
\ncause he never says a thing….<\/p>\n
(The Narrator tries to give Annabelle advice but Annabelle is unaware of her)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nWhat you hold may wish to go
\nWhat you believe may not be so
\nAll that brings you piece of mind
\nmay not stay for a long time<\/p>\n
What may please does not content
\nAll resolves but never ends
\nAll that comforts is not true
\nAnd all you love does not love you<\/p>\n
(Annabelle has arrived home, exhausted after so much gallivanting about with her doll. She sits in front of him trying for some kind of real communication)<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nCan\u2019t you speak to me?
\nWon\u2019t you speak to me?
\nAll the things we could share and conceive
\nIf you\u2019d just speak to me<\/p>\n
(Jasper plays the same song as before but now Annabelle is actually listening and can hear it)<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nElysium
\nThe place the when your sorrows end
\nWhy\u2019d you bring me here
\nOh why\u2019d you bring me here
\nWhy\u2019d you bring me here again?<\/p>\n
(Annabelle is taken aback and understanding dawns on her. She becomes depressed.)<\/p>\n
Annabelle\u2019s Lament<\/p>\n
ANNABELLE:
\nGhosts of dreams, ghosts of memory
\nthat will not leave or lay in quiet
\nGhosts that cry about the life
\nyou let go by<\/p>\n
Ghosts of pasts of little girls who
\nlearned their math, grasped their facts
\nTried their best to reach success
\njust as they were asked<\/p>\n
The girl learns to hide, deep inside
\nof fractions and facts and worlds of math
\nA long lonely land she can understand
\nAnnabelle in Numberland<\/p>\n
You could have been my angel
\nbeen my angel. been my angel and been with me
\nCould have been my angel
\nbeen my angel, been my angel and rescued me<\/p>\n
Ghosts of love you never knew, you
\njust construed like well penned plays
\nGhosts of scenes, embraces, things
\nyou only knew in dreamt up days<\/p>\n
Ghosts of frowns for little girls when
\nfriends came round to waste her time
\nGhosts of creeds, rebukes received
\nChildren are not what achievers need<\/p>\n
Fractions and maths, sweet companions,
\nequations and facts who always stand
\nby as you go your road alone
\nAnnabelle in Numberland<\/p>\n
You could have been my angel
\nbeen my angel, been my angel and been with me
\nYou could have been my angel
\nbeen my angel, been my angel and rescued me<\/p>\n
Ghosts of me, ghosts of who
\ni could be and been with you
\nGhosts of dreams, of who you thought
\nyou’d one day be when you grew up<\/p>\n
Ghosts of breath, of little girls
\nwho promised, stressed they’d be their best
\nGhosts of days that fade away
\nas failure holds your hand til Death<\/p>\n
And deep in the place you escape where
\ntheorems and thoughts your hopes and plans
\nall are derailed and then you failed them
\nAnnabelle in Numberland<\/p>\n
Liquids and labs, fractions and facts,
\nare all you had, all that you understand
\nand as you age all that remains with
\nAnnabelle in Numberland<\/p>\n
You could have been my angel
\nBeen my angel, been my angel and been with me
\nYou could have been my angel
\nMy angel, been my angel and rescued me
\nMy angel, my angel
\nMy angel and been with me
\nMy angel, my angel<\/p>\n
(Annabelle takes an axe and destroys the doll.)<\/p>\n
We Bid The First Generation Adieu<\/p>\n
(Annabelle exits and Narrator enters.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nSo Annabella destroys her
\nDoll, her beloved toy boy
\nAnd takes all the notes that she made and packs them away<\/p>\n
Thus Annabella vows that she
\nWon\u2019t tell a soul and stay lonely
\nDefeated now she sadly creeps back to her lab<\/p>\n
Thus friends we bid adieu to
\nThe 1st generation, but don\u2019t move
\nWe\u2019ve 3 more Acts to get through, so come let\u2019s ensue<\/p>\n
The future beckons and won\u2019t wait
\nThe next generation\u2019s on its way
\nDead things and broken love stories for us await<\/p>\n
End Act 1.<\/p>\n
ACT 2<\/p>\n
New Albion 2:<\/p>\n
(Narrator takes us around New Albion a generation later.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nAnd so a generation\u2019s passed Annabel married at last
\nAnd she had a son she named Edgar but alas
\nShe died when he was 10 his heart was broken but since then
\nHe\u2019s grown and found his darling Fay with whom he wants to wed<\/p>\n
The red haired dwarf he had a son when the son turned 31
\nHe stabbed his father so new mob boss he\u2019d become
\nAs his father slowly died he told his son with tear stained eyes
\nhe was the proudest that he\u2019d ever been in his entire life<\/p>\n
A cat burglar\u2019s around who is the toast of the whole town
\nHis is the most daring heists ever to abound
\nIn reality in fact it\u2019s two 18 year old girls and
\nTheir pet albatross Simon and a brilliant mouse named Sam<\/p>\n
In the Botanist\u2019s Lodge they\u2019ve bred a plant who can think thoughts
\nIt communicates by opening its petals on and off
\nBut alas one day it went into a deep meditative trance
\nSearching for enlightenment and has not made a move since then<\/p>\n
Edgar Gets His Heart Broken<\/p>\n
(Edgar appears. He is seated at a table dining with Fay.)<\/p>\n
EDGAR:
\nThe restaurant was lovely
\nThe food, the wine, it all seemed
\nA perfect night and she looked so divine
\nI poured myself a new one
\nShe says it\u2019s over and done
\nShe says she found someone and it\u2019s goodbye<\/p>\n
One day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns<\/p>\n
I had the prawns with mango
\nShe had the cod and miso
\nAnd says she loved me and she really tried
\nI would have had the lime pie
\nBut I was dying inside
\nShe left, I sat, pretended not to cry<\/p>\n
One day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns<\/p>\n
The Old Trunk In The Attic<\/p>\n
(Edgar, brokenhearted, mopes around his family manor. He finds himself ruffling through an old suitcase in the attic.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nThe old trunk in the attic
\nWhere grandmother\u2019s broken heart was tossed
\nIn a box with a ballet shoe
\nAnd dead soldier\u2019s cross<\/p>\n
The old trunk in the attic
\nWith the candlesticks your great uncle saved
\nFrom the girl in the market
\nWhose mother he once paid to go away<\/p>\n
The old trunk in the attic
\nWith a dress for a child but hardly worn
\nStained in a memory and tears
\nFor a name you\u2019ll never learn<\/p>\n
The old trunk in the attic
\nWhere your grandfather\u2019s glass eye lays to rest
\nYour sweet aunt\u2019s nostalgia
\nAnd Annabella\u2019s formula for raising up the dead
\nAnnabella\u2019s formula for raising up the dead
\nClever mother Annabella with her clever head
\nAnnabella\u2019s formula for raising up the dead<\/p>\n
Edgar Builds A Business<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nSo Edgar tries the experiments he\u2019s read
\nAnnabella\u2019s formula for bringing back the dead
\nThe experiments of course prove a success
\nAnd thus a crazy notion comes into his head<\/p>\n
EDGAR:
\nOne day you will see
\nThat I can be someone you never thought I\u2019d be
\nOne day you will see
\nThat I can be someone you never thought I\u2019d be<\/p>\n
(Edgar goes to the center of town, steps up on a soapbox and proceeds to sell to the crowd.)<\/p>\n
My friends step right up, i have brought you a thing,
\nWhy it’s a miracle process that you will never believe
\nYour grandma, your parents, your child i say who
\nyes whomever you’ve lost i can bring back to you<\/p>\n
You doubt me of course, think i’m out of head
\nbut this week i’ll choose 5 folks and bring back their dead
\nand i’ll put them in quality, mechanical dolls
\nlife sized, yes for free and you’ll see it’s not talk<\/p>\n
(The crowd responds enthusiastically to his offer . We then see him some weeks later)<\/p>\n
My friends, can you hear me, the crowd’s grown so big
\nand these orders, why i’ll tell you i i barely know how to keep
\nup with, so i must tell you, i’m building a store
\nwhere your dead ones can be brought to you folks once more<\/p>\n
With all this success i can offer new deals
\nTheir bodies now come in different colors and feels
\nlike mahogany, lilac, and deep oaken red
\nSeven models to choose from to fit your dear dead<\/p>\n
(The crowd continues to go crazy for his business. We see him then sometime later, no longer on the street but in a boardroom)<\/p>\n
Gentlemen welcome, will the board please sit down
\nour profits this quarter are almost beyond count
\nWe’re opening new factories, starting new ads
\nWe’re making our fortunes, so i’ve one thing to ask<\/p>\n
There’s a man they call Sillof and he once stole my girl
\nI want him destroyed, all he has in this world
\nHis business his home and his carriage all crushed
\nI want him left penniless, face down in the dust<\/p>\n
(Narrator enters and attempts to give Edgar advice which he is oblivious to)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nAll your intentions take their toll
\nAll you hate enthralls your soul
\nWhen you win you sometimes lose
\nAnd all you love does not love you<\/p>\n
(Somewhere quiet, possibly at the original dinner table, Edgar is before his ex-fianc\u00e9e Fay)<\/p>\n
EDGAR:
\nFay, good to see you. I asked you here so
\nyou could listen to what i want to offer to you
\nThat man who you left me for, you know he’s in ruins
\na broken down wreck, but Fay my fortune booms<\/p>\n
And i have a surprise, your dear long dead dad
\ni have taken the liberty of bringin him back
\nhe sits now in my parlor, but Fay the only way
\nyou can see him or talk to him is to come back and stay.<\/p>\n
(Edgar leaves and Fay remains)<\/p>\n
Fay Considers Edgar\u2019s Proposal:<\/p>\n
FAY:
\nOnce we saw a band play
\nYears ago I hardly
\nKnew you like I came to in our day<\/p>\n
I was so excited
\nI fussed to hours prior
\nAnd when you knocked my heart nearly gave way<\/p>\n
When does intimacy
\nBecome so cruel and petty
\nBecome a pit of loathing, disgust and hate?<\/p>\n
One day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn, and you will burn like my heart burns<\/p>\n
End Act 2.<\/p>\n
ACT 3:<\/p>\n
New Albion 3<\/p>\n
(Narrator returns to show us New Albion a generation later.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nAnd so the years they fly, a generation goes on by
\nAnd new faces, new places of New Albion arrive
\nThe doll that Edgar brought back for Fay well sure enough
\nHe\u2019s Jasper, the same one that Annabelle herself called up<\/p>\n
Edgar and Fay had a son, a young man who\u2019s named Byron
\nAnd he\u2019s inherited the Doll, his dear Jasper whom he loves
\nAfter years and years of folks bringing back their dead ones, droves
\nOf Dolls fill the city in streets slums and homes<\/p>\n
Yes, there\u2019s slums just full of dead, they don\u2019t walk or talk instead
\nThey\u2019re like blank slates on which they\u2019re friends and relatives project
\nThe big subculture in these times is Voodoopunk and every night
\nByron and Amelia are immersed and acolytes<\/p>\n
The red haired dwarf\u2019s son ran the mob for years and years but then
\nHe was run out by 2 women and a brilliant mouse named Sam
\nThe voodoopunks, to mock the world, for city mayor run a Doll
\nThey show up at the rallies and attempt to rile the crowd<\/p>\n
(BYRON and AMELIA and other Voodoopunks are hanging out)<\/p>\n
The Movement 1<\/p>\n
(BYRON and AMELIA and other Voodoopunks are hanging out)<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nIn the movement, In the nights of dead and dance
\nIn the movement, The haunted held within our hands
\nIn the movement, Jasper, love is why I do
\nIn the movement, the love I never get from you<\/p>\n
In the movement
\nCome and dance through the night
\nIn the movement
\nRidden by the blinding light<\/p>\n
At the crossroads and the barrow
\nWe have come to court the shadow<\/p>\n
BYRON and AMELIA:
\nIn the movement
\nLoa live within our hands
\nIn the movement
\nOur voodoo opens other lands
\nIn the movement
\nDrugs and dance and spirits whirl
\nIn the movement
\nAnd we reject our father\u2019s world<\/p>\n
In the movement
\nCome and dance through the night
\nIn the movement
\nRidden by the blinding light<\/p>\n
At the crossroads and the barrow
\nWe have come to court the shadow<\/p>\n
AMELIA and OTHER VOODOOPUNKS:
\nIn the movement, In the nights of dead and dance
\nIn the movement, The haunted held within our hands
\nIn the movement, All for love is all I do
\nIn the movement, the love I never get from you<\/p>\n
In the movement
\nCome and dance through the night
\nIn the movement
\nRidden by the blinding light<\/p>\n
At the crossroads and the barrow
\nWe have come to court the shadow<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nCan\u2019t you speak to me
\nCan\u2019t you speak to me<\/p>\n
All the things we could share and conceive
\nif you\u2019d just speak with me<\/p>\n
My friends these elections this season to come
\nYour capitalists, socialists, facists and bums
\nYour left and your right are both out of their heads
\nSo this year for office we\u2019re running the dead<\/p>\n
Vote for our Doll for his stance never bends
\nHe knows we are equal when it comes to the end
\nYour money and taxes, your debts and your gains
\nOne day at the end we will all be the same<\/p>\n
Your government robs you and bleeds you and now
\nMy friend\u2019s one day soon will come break your door down
\nInstead of the system my friends walk away
\nCome ride at the crossroads come do it today<\/p>\n
You think that this world you live in is all?
\nCome feel the spirit the Baron he calls
\nDon\u2019t be a zombie vote dead all the way
\nVote voodoopunk we dance with you on your grave<\/p>\n
Voodoopunk<\/p>\n
(Scene: A popular nightclub among the Voodoopunk subculture. It caters to their subculture and their club dancing is a voodoo ceremony. Amelia is dancing and chanting as high priestess.)<\/p>\n
VOODOOPUNKS:
\nYa ko, hoo-o-la-oh A-hee-lay-oh-la-hey
\nYa ko, hoo-o-la-oh A-hee-lay-oh-la-hey<\/p>\n
The Sidhe are coming over, the Sidhe are pass back over
\nThe Sidhe will come back over, doll-ay doll-ay<\/p>\n
AMELIA:
\nAnwen open, Anwen open to me
\nAnwen open, come oh Sidhe<\/p>\n
Doll-ay doll-ay, doll-ay doll-ay
\nDoll-ay doll-ay, hey<\/p>\n
The Movement 2:<\/p>\n
AMELIA:
\nIn the movement
\nIn the nights of dead and dance
\nIn the movement
\nWhen I\u2019m offering out my hand
\nIn the movement
\nI don\u2019t need you to pretend
\nIn the movement
\nall I ask for is a friend<\/p>\n
In the movement
\nDrugs and dance and spirits whirl
\nIn the movement
\nAs we flee our father\u2019s world<\/p>\n
At the crossroads so it goes we
\nNeed a love you cannot show me<\/p>\n
Can\u2019t you reach for me?
\nCan\u2019t you reach for me?
\nThe burdens I bear that you never do see
\nIf you\u2019d just please help me<\/p>\n
BYRON and OTHER VOODOOPUNKS:
\nIn the movement
\nLoa live within our hands
\nIn the movement
\nOur voodoo opens other lands
\nIn the movement
\nDrugs and dance and spirits whirl
\nIn the movement
\nAnd we reject our father\u2019s world<\/p>\n
In the movement
\nCome and dance through the night
\nIn the movement
\nRidden by the blinding light<\/p>\n
At the crossroads and the barrow
\nWe have come to court the shadow<\/p>\n
(BYRON goes to podium at the political rally continues to bait the crowd)<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nMy friends look around at this world that you\u2019ve known
\nThe leeches are sucking you dry to the bone
\nThe zombies are letting it all get away
\nSo vote for our Doll and throw it away<\/p>\n
You don\u2019t need a master, no government who
\nWill take all you\u2019ve earned, tell you what to do
\nOur Doll will not lead you, he\u2019ll not bleed you dry
\nNor bribe nor coerce nor fail you nor lie<\/p>\n
There\u2019s coming a time not so far from right now
\nWhen your rights will be gone and they\u2019ll make you bow down
\nWe stand at the crossroads and offer a way
\nTo ecstacy, freedom, a path, a new day<\/p>\n
This welfare of zombies is come to an end
\nFor zombies, your children are out of their heads
\nThey\u2019ve left you for sex, drugs, drums and the dead
\nCome now and join us, come join us my friends!<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nOver years jasper\u2019s taken
\nWords and instrumentations
\nFrom the music he channels night and day<\/p>\n
And he\u2019s used them to make
\nA new song he can play
\nTo the crowd as he tries to communicate<\/p>\n
(Jasper takes center stage and all else but him fades.)<\/p>\n
Elysian Night<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nElysium
\nThe silent sighed lost lullaby
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe child who climbs the edge of time
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
The place the child you hardly knew
\nSailed to in his wooden shoe
\nPast the last star in the sky
\nWhere wishes never wished go lie<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe child who climbs the edge of time
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
The place where all the love you shared
\nWent day by day til none was there
\nWhere yearning and forgotten dreams
\nAre nursery rhymes the quiet sing<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe silent sighed lost lullaby
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe child who climbs the edge of time
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
The childhood friend you knew was there
\nBut never saw or touched and where
\nThey went when never called again
\nThe place their loneliness all ends<\/p>\n
All the sorrow, guilt and shame
\nBurdens borne and karma paid
\nIn one soft breath like candlelight
\nDispersed in endless Elysian night<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe silent sighed lost lullaby
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe child who climbs the edge of time
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
The Suicide<\/p>\n
(Narrator enters and takes us from Jasper into a small flat in New Albion where one of the most prominent girls from the Voodoopunk party is sitting alone in her room listening to an old fashioned radio.)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nJasper\u2019s song that he made
\nAll the Dolls in the town play
\nAnd it broadcasts all throughout the day<\/p>\n
Amelia lives in a small flat
\nWith a cruel father who\u2019s quite sad
\nAnd she listens and feels a deep compassion<\/p>\n
(The sound of the song Elysian Night is heard playing over the radio. It\u2019s interrupted by the father violently yelling at the girl. After it finishes she sings quietly.)<\/p>\n
AMELIA:
\nA place I cannot bear to be
\nWhere loneliness, brutality
\nAnd days of endless, dismal sky
\nJust go by and by and by<\/p>\n
Another place I never knew
\nA distant, silent, sweet refuse
\nWith razor, rope and no lament
\nI go to where my sorrows end<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe silent sigh beyond this life
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
Elysium
\nThe girl who cries her last goodbye
\nElysian night<\/p>\n
(Amelia kills herself.)<\/p>\n
Bonfire Of The Dolls<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nBeside the girl’s body her suicide note
\nand the words from the doll’s song was all that she wrote
\nIt was published in papers, discussed, yet despite
\nthis the dolls kept broadcasting all day and all night<\/p>\n
(The sound of Elysian Night playing over radio)<\/p>\n
Columnists bantered, parent groups fumed
\nand distrust, fear and anger rose, spread and loomed
\nThe dolls were derided, distained and decried
\nand everyone waited for the match to ignite<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nIt won\u2019t be too long folks til our doll runs this town
\nWe\u2019re voting him in and it\u2019s happening now
\nWe\u2019re all at the corssroads where worlds connect
\nAnd your kids are all dancing each night with the dead<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nKill the dolls kill the dolls everyone screamed<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nNow my friends just hold on, that is not what we mean<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nBut whatever he meant no one cared or would hear
\nThere was blood in their eyes and a riot was reared<\/p>\n
The streets are chaotic as bonfires glow
\nIn the alleys and flames fear and furor just grow
\nThe dolls are picked up and then thrown in the fire
\nand the fever of violence and panic conspire<\/p>\n
Poor Byron he runs to find jasper his love
\nas the dolls are torn limb from limb, torched and burned up
\nNo one ‘s left to listen to his speeches or cries
\nHe’s fanned the flames that kill his dear doll tonight<\/p>\n
BYRON:
\nWhere\u2019s my angel?
\nWhere\u2019s my angel?
\nWhere\u2019s my angel?
\nWhere\u2019s my angel?<\/p>\n
(They city is exploding in a fiery riot. Citizens are throwing dolls on bonfires. Byron is frantically trying to find Jasper. He finally sees him being carried by some rioters towards a bonfire. He races after them trying to stop them. He arrives just as Jasper is being thrown and leaps to stop it.)<\/p>\n
End Act 3<\/p>\n
ACT 4:<\/p>\n
The Ballad of the Gambler and the Monk<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nYou remember at the start, the Gambler and the Monk played cards?<\/p>\n
(Music has a rustic folk feel)<\/p>\n
Years before a Monk and Gambler embarked
\nOn a long trek right through the great lands of the North
\nThey had a debate about Gd, chance and fate
\nAnd agreed it be settled through just one card game<\/p>\n
Day after day they sat there and they played
\nAs the weeks and the days and the months passed away
\nTravelers came in just to watch and drink gin
\nAnd bet on which one would eventually win<\/p>\n
As a whole town was then slowly built round them
\nThe Gambler pot rose and Monk\u2019s pot went down
\nAnd thus came to pass the final hand came at last
\nBut before it was played the Gambler\u2019s heart it gave way<\/p>\n
He hollered and cried right out \u2018for he died
\nA curse from his lungs: the game was not done
\nHe swore they\u2019d be back to finish at last
\nAnd fist to the sky the Gambler died.<\/p>\n
New Albion 4<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nMeanwhile we come back to the fourth and final act
\nByron got himself a trophy wife and had
\nA daughter who he named Priscilla and she came
\nTo age in a city that is now a police state<\/p>\n
New Albion today is a harsh and martial place
\nThe riots destroyed buildings, streets and throughways
\nThe City took control through a state of martial law
\nThat remains to this day as troops of armored cops patrol<\/p>\n
(We follow a young recruit being accepted into the militarized police service)<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nAnd on this day of my enlistment
\nI shed my skin of will and innocence
\nI pledge allegiance and devotion
\nI\u2019ll be the power that you flex<\/p>\n
I am your arm of execution
\nI am the trigger of your gun
\nI am the binding and the order
\nMy duty to you has begun<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nRandom searches are the law, looking for remaining Dolls
\nAnd if found execution is immediate for all
\nAny token of the dead, whether relative or friend
\nIs forbid and if found you may or may not be seen again<\/p>\n
Jasper\u2019s still around and he\u2019s with Priscilla now
\nThey sit and hide together deep within the family house
\nThe spend their days resigned from the brutal world outside
\nAnd play a never ending game of cards to pass to time<\/p>\n
Priscilla and Jasper Play Cards<\/p>\n
(Scene: A dimply lit, windowless room deep in the McAlistair Manor. Priscilla and the doll Jasper sit and play cards. Jasper is naturally awkward at it, but Priscilla is patient and the game manages to be played.)<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nClub and spade I raise, here in this parlor in this never ending game we play
\nAnd we hide, just you and I, as day fades into day
\nHidden in our room, with a game that no one ever seems to win or lose
\nAnd the shades of flames remain from a world we keep far away<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nGhosts of towns, ghosts of cities
\nGames that brought its sad demise
\nThe only way to end the game
\nOne who plays must sacrifice<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nDiamonds now I raise, outside we\u2019d die and there is nowhere else I\u2019d rather stay
\nIn the scrawl beyond these walls in a cold and coarse and vicious place
\nHere where there\u2019s no time, there\u2019s no loss or lies or need to speak of sacrifice
\nIt\u2019s no way to win a game and why else would a person play?<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nGhosts of games, you\u2019re always caught in
\nGames you play but cannot win
\nThe only way the game can die
\nOne who plays must sacrifice<\/p>\n
(The scene shifts to the outside world. The young recruit is out in a three police man squad raiding homes and executing guilty citizens)<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nAnd on the day we come it\u2019s over
\nAnd you will have your fate laid out and spun, it\u2019s execution
\nAnd you may pray if you get comfort
\nIt\u2019s on that day you\u2019re duty\u2019s done<\/p>\n
(Return to the Manor where Priscilla and Jasper play cards)<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nGhosts of Fay, the child I loved
\nWhose eyes and smile you remind me of
\nIn the years I\u2019ve been trapped here
\nOnly you I\u2019ve come to love<\/p>\n
A ghost am I, one if they knew of
\nWho, with you, they\u2019d come and kill
\nGhosts of death I wish to die
\nBut sacrifice so you might live<\/p>\n
Ghosts of love, of little girls you
\nTalked and watched as they grew up
\nGhosts of things and rings and gifts
\nYou give to them so they might live<\/p>\n
Ghosts of towns, ghosts of cities
\nGames that brought their sad demise
\nThe only way to end the game
\nOne who plays must sacrifice<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nHearts and now I fold, you can\u2019t mean that you just dream of death and wish to go?
\nYou\u2019re my soul, my angel
\nThe only thing that keeps me whole<\/p>\n
How can you want to die? All this time and all these years that slowly pass on by
\nYou\u2019re alive so I don\u2019t die?
\nWhat kind of twisted sacrifice\u2026<\/p>\n
(Scene once again shifts to the young police soldier, Soldier 7285, carrying out his duties)<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nAnd on the day we come it\u2019s over<\/p>\n
And you will have your fate laid out and spun, it\u2019s execution
\nAnd you may pray if you get comfort
\nIt\u2019s on that day you\u2019re duty\u2019s done<\/p>\n
Priscilla Considers<\/p>\n
(Priscilla leaves Jasper at the table and goes to the side of the room to reflect)<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nSome speak about love in a sweet way
\nEnchantment, romance and dizzy dream states
\nAnd some just wait and pace their cage<\/p>\n
Some speak about love as a passion
\nAs rapture and cries and sighs and gasps and
\nSome resign to yearn inside<\/p>\n
These odes of tear stained banter and dew eyed candor
\nThat wither in the world, the world that
\nJust deceives you and beats and bleeds you
\nAnd leaves lonely little girls<\/p>\n
And some sacrifice, anyway
\nSome sacrifice, it all away
\nAh, the fallen and the burdened and the wreaths upon their grave
\nWhen they\u2019re broken there\u2019s no assurance they made a better place<\/p>\n
Some speak about love in a kind way
\nThe friend that won\u2019t leave and makes your day sane
\nAs you bide and cringe and hide<\/p>\n
Some wait for a stranger to touch and fill them
\nSome wait for the stranger who will kill them
\nAnd some just pace their lonely cage<\/p>\n
With one dear doll who keeps you from crying but cries too
\nSilently inside
\nSome speak of love and kindness and clutch in blindness
\nAnd take and hoard and hide<\/p>\n
And some sacrifice, anyway
\nSome sacrifice, it all away
\nAh, the fallen and the burdened and the wreaths upon their grave
\nWhen you\u2019re broken there\u2019s no assurance you made a better place<\/p>\n
(Priscilla picks up the phone)<\/p>\n
Hello, police? Hello, police? A felony, you need to see<\/p>\n
(Priscilla puts down the phone and returns to Jasper who has seen and heard what she has done)<\/p>\n
(skip to next page)<\/p>\n
The Day They Come<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nCircles never stop themselves, nothing that you\u2019ve ever held were you promised or reneged and sometimes when you lose, you win.<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nPrisiclla, what\u2019d you do?
\nWhen You come for me
\nYou know they\u2019ll also kill you too
\nYou\u2019re young, your song unsung
\nThere\u2019s too much still for you to do<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nAll these years you\u2019re here, you suffer quietly, it\u2019s barbarous to think that\u2019s fair
\nThere\u2019s no one who thinks of you
\nThe game is gonna end right here
\nI\u2019d help you to
\nDie, if I could, but\u2026<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nPrisiclla what\u2019d you do?
\nnow they\u2019ll come and you must
\nrun or else they\u2019ll kill you too<\/p>\n
Your life so I can die
\nis wrong and you must know that\u2019s true<\/p>\n
ghosts of life, ghosts of lives
\nI\u2019ve watched fall and pass me by
\nGhosts of all the selfish, vain
\nAll the blindness, all the pain
\nAll the fool and petty games
\nAll the shallow all the same<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nI\u2019d help you to die if I could , love
\nSome sacrifice anyway
\nSome sacrifice it all away<\/p>\n
(Soldier 7285 and his 2 other squad members burst into the room)<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nAnd on the day we come it\u2019s over
\nAnd you will have your fate laid out and spun, it\u2019s execution
\nAnd u may pray if you get comfort
\nIt\u2019s on this day your duty\u2019s done
\nAnd on this day you\u2019ve been caught guilty, the sentence citizen is death
\nIt will be carried out this instant
\nSay any prayers that u want said<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nOne day you will learn
\nAnd u will burn like my heart burns
\nOne day you will learn
\nAnd u will burn like my heart burns
\nGhosts of all the selfish, vain
\nAll the blindness, all the pain
\nAll the fool and petty games
\nAll the shallow all the same<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nSome speak about
\nlove, in a sweet way
\nSome sentiment of
\nbliss and dream states
\nSome speak about love
\nin a kind way,
\nsome sentiment of rapturous states<\/p>\n
and some sacrifice
\nsome sacrifice
\nsome sacrifice
\nsome sacrifice<\/p>\n
JASPER:
\nPlease, my angel, my angel
\nPlease my angel, my angel
\nPlease, my angel, my angel
\nPlease my angel, my angel<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nI am the arm of execution
\nI am the trigger of your gun
\nI am the binding and the order
\nIt\u2019s on this day you\u2019re duty\u2019s done<\/p>\n
PRISCILLA:
\nPlease go back to
\nBerths of black
\nTo silent shores
\nfrom me once more
\nthrough veils and gates
\nand seas of slate
\nand blood red mores where I\u2019ll
\nsee you once more<\/p>\n
I Will Bring You Down<\/p>\n
(The room fades and Soldier 7285 is left)<\/p>\n
OTHER SOLDIER: Soldier 7285, why didn\u2019t you fire?
\nOTHER SOLDIER 2: Soldier 7285, why didn\u2019t you fire?
\nAUTHORITY: Soldier 7285 you are hereby notified of your court martial for negligence of duty
\nOTHER SOLDIER: Why didn\u2019t you fire?<\/p>\n
SOLDIER 7285:
\nI saw her eyes, I\u2019ve never faced
\nThat kind of look that haunted grace
\nThe way she died so willing just
\nTo die for love, to die for love<\/p>\n
What kind of masters must I serve
\nThat make this into such a world
\nWhere one must kill such beauty and
\nBring this to pass with such cruel hands<\/p>\n
Soldier 7285
\nis who I am it is my life
\nBut I perceive another place
\nAnd it must be built upon your grave<\/p>\n
And I will bring you down
\nI will bring you down
\nI will bring you down<\/p>\n
And if I fall someone will see
\nThe way I went, just like she
\nWith eyes of love and heart of light
\nThey too will fight, they too will fight<\/p>\n
Today I say it will begin
\nToday i will begin your end
\nToday the wind that comes, portends
\nWill be your end, will be your end<\/p>\n
And I will bring you down
\nI will bring you down
\nI will bring you down<\/p>\n
(Soldier 7285 exits)<\/p>\n
We Bid You All Adieu<\/p>\n
(Narrator enters)<\/p>\n
NARRATOR:
\nThe revolution that rises has stories for another time
\nOur tale for this evening comes to a close
\nSo we bid adieu to our players and of course you
\nWe hope this little history lesson we\u2019ve shown<\/p>\n
Has been illuminating, our facts have been kept straight and
\nNames and situations all remain unchanged
\nAlas friends we cannot stay, the future is always on its way
\nThus ends our little passion play as played today.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Dolls Of New Albion: A Steampunk Opera Act 1: New Albion 1 (Scene: The steampunk city of New Albion. Our Narrator appears to take us on a guided tour.) NARRATOR: Several hundred years before A gambler and a monk […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-6346","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","clearfix"],"jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6346","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6346"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6346\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulshapera.com\/temp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6346"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}