°Ë»ö ¹æ¹ý   
Á¦¸ñ: What Child Is This?
°¡¼ö: Trans-Siberian Orchestra


[NARRATION]

The old man stood there thinking
While staring in that old toy shop
With its carousel still turning round
In front of a music box clock

For what good's a clock without a chime
A useless thing that just keeps time
Recording moments that come and leave
But this clock's chimes struck midnight
Upon a lost christmas eve

And when the final chime had spoken
And the twelfth bell had finally rung
The indecision in the father was broken
He now knew what had to be done

So he got into a yellow cab
And prayed that it might lead
Through all this snow and streetlight glow
To a past he might retrieve

When the taxi dropped him off
At the boarding house hotel
It was a rundown building
With a musty, rundown smell

And he asked for his son
From the hotel's night desk clerk
Who said his son was not there
He was not back from work

When the father said that was impossible
The clerk replied, "i'm not here to debate
But he works at the hospital, just down the block
If you want you can sit here and wait
But he never returns till real late"

Then the father tried asking another question
But the clerk went back to watching his tv
Which was also playing, "how the grinch stole christmas"
And the father mused, "this movie has no sympathy,
Well, at least not when it comes down to me"

Once outside he saw the hospital's entrance
And went to information by the front door
Who confirmed that his son had a job there
And worked up on the seventh floor

So he took the elevator up to that floor
Which was marked "maternity"
And the man knew in his heart that this was a mistake
For his son working here could not be

But the nurse on duty reconfirmed that he did
And since her rounds were about to begin
If he would like to follow her
She would gladly take the father to him

So he followed her to a large dark room
That to him seemed unusually empty
Except for several incubators glowing on the right
Each with a trembling baby

These infants were all extremely frail
And obviously in incredible pain
And this sight cut deep into that father's soul
And he asked the nurse, please, to explain

"these children were born to mothers
Who were addicted to crack cocaine
And these children are born in complete withdrawal
For that drug is still deep in their veins

We can give them no other drugs to ease their withdrawals
Since they are born premature and quite frail
And any form of pain killer
Could easily cause their small hearts to fail"

"and what does my son do here?"
The father asked, "he is not a patient, i assume"
The nurse did not say a single word
But nodded to the far left corner of the room

And there the father saw his son
Who looked like himself when he was a younger man
Rocking back and forth in a rocking chair
A trembling infant held in his hands

And in his arms the child did not cry
But slept to silent lullabies
And his son rocked that newborn back and forth
Until finally, a dream was caught
But still at his rocking, his son faithfully kept
Till that poor child's trembling had also, finally, left

Then the nurse whispered softly
Into the father's ear
Something that a blind man could see
But the father needed to hear

Whispered to him in this room
Filled with mankind's misbegotten
Something that the father had known once
But somehow had forgotten

She said, "it is this way with each of us
We all need to be held, at least twice
Once upon the day that we are born
And once more when we leave this life

Your son has been coming to this place
Since as long as i've been working here
He's never missed a single day
In nearly twenty years

He always arrives promptly on time
But a time card he does not keep
For he never leaves this maternity room
Until every last child is asleep"

Then the nurse noticed the father
Trying to choke back the things he now felt



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