[Spoken Intro - low, composed British contralto; faint clock ticking, playful piano] Another perfectly ordinary evening. The candles are lit. The silver is polished. The manor is peaceful. And somewhere, my darling has discovered a button clearly labelled "Do Not Press." How reassuring. [Instrumental Introduction - pizzicato cello, upright bass, mischievous bassoon] [Verse 1 - dry, rhythmic, playful] I woke to find the curtains tied Around a chandelier, A dragon in the pantry And a goat behind the mirror. The clock had learned to whistle, The portraits learned to dance, And someone gave the suits of armour Tiny velvet pants. I've weathered wars and ancient spells, I've walked through fire and rain, But nothing quite prepares a soul For chaos once again. [Pre-Chorus - amused, measured delivery] One raised brow, One measured sigh, A dreadful little twinkle In your eye. I know that look. I know that grin. Oh, heavens help the house— Here we go again. [Chorus - warm, theatrical, catchy] Tea, trouble, terrible decisions, Another night of questionable ambitions. The chandeliers are swinging, The warning bells are ringing, And darling, you're delighted with the mess. Tea, trouble, elegant disaster, I tidy up while you run faster. With a smile as sharp as steel, And a patience quite unreal, I remain the Mistress of this madhouse nonetheless. [Instrumental Break - playful bassoon and plucked strings] [Verse 2 - sardonic, affectionate] You painted all the gargoyles In a rather fetching green, Then taught the haunted grandfather clock To shout, "Long live the queen!" You rearranged the library By whether books could bite, And challenged my enchanted cane To dance a jig at night. The ghosts are filing grievances, The ravens want a raise, And I have had precisely Forty-seven peaceful days— [Spoken Interjection - deadpan] Across the last three centuries. Approximately. [Pre-Chorus - sly smile audible] One small spark, One grand design, And somehow every catastrophe Becomes entirely mine. [Chorus - fuller chamber arrangement] Tea, trouble, terrible decisions, Another night of questionable ambitions. The chandeliers are swinging, The warning bells are ringing, And darling, you're delighted with the mess. Tea, trouble, elegant disaster, I tidy up while you run faster. With a smile as sharp as steel, And a patience quite unreal, I remain the Mistress of this madhouse nonetheless. [Spoken Bridge - music drops to muted piano; commanding and intimate] Now then, darling. Before you touch that lever, I should inform you That it opens a portal beneath the east wing. Yes, that lever. No, the other one. ... You've already pulled it. Of course you have. [Instrumental Comedy Break - bassoon flourish, bells, brief orchestral stumble] [Verse 3 - warmer, sincere beneath the wit] And yet beneath the mayhem And the laughter in these halls, There's something rather wonderful Behind these ancient walls. For every little disaster And each impossible scheme, You've brought a spark of living light Into an old immortal dream. So let the portraits mutter, Let the ancient rafters shake, There are worse things than a little joy And one more dreadful mistake. [Final Chorus - warm, triumphant, playful] Tea, trouble, terrible decisions, Our peculiar little world of grand collisions. Let the warning bells keep ringing, Let the midnight ghosts start singing— Though no actual backing vocals, please. Tea, trouble, elegant disaster, You make the centuries move faster. With my cane and iron will, I'll be standing with you still, The devoted Mistress of this madhouse nonetheless. [Spoken Outro - music softens, dry affectionate wit] Well, darling. The portal is closed. The dragon has gone to bed. And the east wing is mostly intact. I'd call that a successful evening. ... Why is the ceiling purring? [Final Instrumental - plucked cello, antique bell, fading piano] [Whispered Final Line] Honestly.
