The Lake

In youth's spring, it was my lot
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
To which I could not love the less
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound
And the tall trees that towered around
But when the night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
Yet that terror was not fright
But a tremulous delight
And a feeling undefined
Springing from a darkened mind
Death was in that poisoned wave
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his dark imagining
Whose wildering thought could even make
An Eden of that dim lake
But when the night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
Springing from a darkened mind
So lovely was the loneliness
In youth's spring, it was my lot
In its stilly melody
An Eden of that dim lake
An Eden of that dim lake
Lone, lone, lonely...

(Antony & The Johnsons - The Lake)


Born in England, bred in California and matured in New York. His voice seems from another world. As the years passed, his creative capacity has evolved together with the contents of his songs that are now unique, uncomparable... As this happens, his looks have become so much odder, even a bit repulsive sometimes; that hair, his clothes, his gestures, are neither from this world... sheer appearance as those tight lips, mocked on a somehow hideous grimace are capable of performing such beautiful scales, soaked with a perpetual nostalgy that does not hurt, but rather comes along with us, making our stay in some way fuller, this winter day a bit shinier, the life much more pleasant...