| Song | The Frolic |
| Artist | Current 93 |
| Album | All The Pretty Little Horses (The Inmost Light) |
| 作词 : Tibet | |
| I take your hand | |
| We walk towards where the roses once grew | |
| I lie back in the grass and dream of how it once was | |
| The rubbishstrewn streets | |
| Riperising smell of gutters and rain | |
| The children abandoned | |
| Mother recalls child in pool | |
| What is that that lies? deadchilddead | |
| I have such nightmares and you're all in all of them | |
| It's worse than you or i can ever know | |
| On the edge of the clouds we crouch | |
| We smile and spit | |
| The pool of saliva carrascates below our feet | |
| It shifts | |
| Children with knives begin to rise from it | |
| They laugh and blow kisses at the moon | |
| We think it's the rain | |
| I see a bird move onto the table in my garden | |
| Its beak scoops up the seeds | |
| The green of the grass and the blue of the sky | |
| Are immense and terrifying | |
| Everything seems so close | |
| so very very close | |
| Should a storm come | |
| Should a storm break and halo all around us | |
| As some savage and blind god | |
| Jerking his hands out to us | |
| The birds drop all around us | |
| I walk into the altar room | |
| All the buddhas are smashed there | |
| Avalokitesvara's hundred faces lie shattered | |
| I have done this | |
| I walk to the makeshift red brick altar a hundred years ago | |
| there is a small brass image there | |
| I have built this | |
| The red and black ants mill around | |
| Unknown journeys | |
| I take my lighter and torch them | |
| I take my lighter and torch them | |
| I weep i weep | |
| The ants scatter or writhe | |
| I take my lighter and torch them torch them | |
| I have done this | |
| I am surrounded by butterflies | |
| The child's legs lay smashed | |
| Please pray for him she says to me | |
| Too late | |
| Alas oh so too late | |
| I see the twinkling stars | |
| I drop a photograph | |
| I bend to pick it up | |
| My heart leaps as i see your face | |
| Stare up at me from the paper | |
| As if still alive on this earth | |
| When i return my eyes to the stars | |
| They gathered | |
| They pucker | |
| And are blind | |
| And are blind | |
| So lost are we | |
| Oh what have i become | |
| I have become that i hate | |
| I have become that i shall say no | |
| The bird is dead now alas | |
| A voice whispers to me | |
| And says nothing nothing | |
| There is nothing | |
| I look to my right and see her face again | |
| And again the world disappears | |
| And all fall down | |
| All fall down | |
| All fall down i all fall down | |
| All fall down i all fall down | |
| We all fall down | |
| We all fall down |
| zuò cí : Tibet | |
| I take your hand | |
| We walk towards where the roses once grew | |
| I lie back in the grass and dream of how it once was | |
| The rubbishstrewn streets | |
| Riperising smell of gutters and rain | |
| The children abandoned | |
| Mother recalls child in pool | |
| What is that that lies? deadchilddead | |
| I have such nightmares and you' re all in all of them | |
| It' s worse than you or i can ever know | |
| On the edge of the clouds we crouch | |
| We smile and spit | |
| The pool of saliva carrascates below our feet | |
| It shifts | |
| Children with knives begin to rise from it | |
| They laugh and blow kisses at the moon | |
| We think it' s the rain | |
| I see a bird move onto the table in my garden | |
| Its beak scoops up the seeds | |
| The green of the grass and the blue of the sky | |
| Are immense and terrifying | |
| Everything seems so close | |
| so very very close | |
| Should a storm come | |
| Should a storm break and halo all around us | |
| As some savage and blind god | |
| Jerking his hands out to us | |
| The birds drop all around us | |
| I walk into the altar room | |
| All the buddhas are smashed there | |
| Avalokitesvara' s hundred faces lie shattered | |
| I have done this | |
| I walk to the makeshift red brick altar a hundred years ago | |
| there is a small brass image there | |
| I have built this | |
| The red and black ants mill around | |
| Unknown journeys | |
| I take my lighter and torch them | |
| I take my lighter and torch them | |
| I weep i weep | |
| The ants scatter or writhe | |
| I take my lighter and torch them torch them | |
| I have done this | |
| I am surrounded by butterflies | |
| The child' s legs lay smashed | |
| Please pray for him she says to me | |
| Too late | |
| Alas oh so too late | |
| I see the twinkling stars | |
| I drop a photograph | |
| I bend to pick it up | |
| My heart leaps as i see your face | |
| Stare up at me from the paper | |
| As if still alive on this earth | |
| When i return my eyes to the stars | |
| They gathered | |
| They pucker | |
| And are blind | |
| And are blind | |
| So lost are we | |
| Oh what have i become | |
| I have become that i hate | |
| I have become that i shall say no | |
| The bird is dead now alas | |
| A voice whispers to me | |
| And says nothing nothing | |
| There is nothing | |
| I look to my right and see her face again | |
| And again the world disappears | |
| And all fall down | |
| All fall down | |
| All fall down i all fall down | |
| All fall down i all fall down | |
| We all fall down | |
| We all fall down |