Life in a Haunted House (Maria Callas)

And leaving the stage of the Opera
And keeping them waiting all night

A vision that flowed through childhood
While burning the candles so bright

Hear the sound
On the boards
Of that Haunted House

Was it aiming at me?

See the moon
On the floor
Of that Haunted House

What would you make of me?
Make of me?

And I know why she sings
To hide those darker things
That burned her fragile wings
In her haunted house of fame

She fell on the floor in Paris
With nobody there to call

And dying of love is one thing
But who would be there when you fall