Little Lotte let her mind wander

Remember that too

Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls
Or of goblins or shoes?
Or of riddles of frocks?
Those picnics in the attic
Or of chocolates?

Father playing the violin

As we read to each other dark stories of the North

No, what I love best, Lotte said
Is when I'm asleep in my bed
And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head!
The Angel of Music sings songs in my head!

Insolent boy!
This slave of fashion
Basking in your glory!
Ignorant fool!
This brave young suitor
Sharing in my triumph!

Angel, I hear you!
Speak, I listen
Stay by my side, guide me!
Angel, my soul was weak
Forgive me
Enter at last, Master!

Flattering child, you shall know me
See why in shadow I hide
Look at your face in the mirror
I am there inside!

Angel of Music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory

Angel of Music
Hide no longer
Come to me, strange angel

I am your angel
Come to me: Angel of Music

Whose is that voice?
Who is that in there?

I am your Angel of Music
Come to me: Angel of Music

Christine, angel!