NB: the lyrics below are written exactly as they are sung on the album, not as they were originally written in poetry form.

'Tyger'

(taken from a poem by William Blake [1757-1827])

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

'London'

(taken from a poem by William Blake [1757-1827])

I wander thro' each charter'd street

Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,

How the Chimney-sweeper's cry

Every black'ning Church appalls,

And the hapless Soldier's sigh

Runs in blood down Palace walls;

In every cry of every Man,

In every Infant's cry of fear,

In every voice, in every ban,

The mind-forg'd manacles I hear:

But most thro' midnight streets I hear

How the youthful Harlot's curse

Blasts the new born Infant's tear,

And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

London

London

And mark in every face I meet

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,

In every Infant's cry of fear,

In every voice, in every ban,

The mind-forg'd manacles I hear:

London

London

Children of a future age

Reading this indignant page

Know that in a former time

Love, sweet love,

Was thought a crime

Extract from 'America'

Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open;

And let his wife and children return from the opressor's scourge.

They look behind at every step and believe it is a dream,

Singing: "The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher morning,

And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night;

For Empire is no more, and now the Lion and Wolf shall cease

shall cease

shall cease."

'The Fly'

(taken from a poem by William Blake [1757-1827])

Little Fly,

Thy summer's play

My thoughtless hand

Has brush'd away.

Am not I

A fly like thee?

Or art not thou

A man like me?

For I dance, ha ha

And drink and sing,

'Til some blind hand

Shall brush my wing

If thought is life

And strength and breath,

And the want

Of thought is death,

Then am I

A happy fly,

If I live

Or if die

Or if I die

Or if I die.

'Smile'

(Taken from a poem by William Blake [1757-1827])

There's a smile of love,

And there is a smile of deceit;

And there's a smile of smiles

In which these two smiles meet

And there is a frown of hate,

And there is a frown of disdain;

And there is a frown of frowns,

Which you strive to forget in vain

And there is a smile of love,

And there is a smile of deceit,

And there is a smile of smiles,

In which these two smiles meet

For it sticks in the heart's deep core,

And it sticks in the deep backbone;

And no smile that ever was smiled,

But only one smile alone

That betwixt the cradle and grave

It only once smiled can be;

But when it once is smiled

There's an end to all misery.