In the magic garden, some were singing, some were dancing,
While the midnight moon shone brightly overhead.
The stars so gayly glistened and the sphinx in silence listened
To the magician tell of lives that he has led.

Let the bells of freedom ring.
Songs of love to Friday's king.

Let's all go to the magician's birthday.
It's in the forest but not so far away.
Much to do and so much to say,
While we listen to the oaken orchestra play.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.
(Happy birthday - you magician, happy birthday to you.)


And at the dead of midnight, as we watched the dancing firelight,
The air grew cold and seemed to dour the flame.
The fire died, the music faded, filled with fear of death we waited,
For now we knew some evil was to blame.

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