Chorus: It's been a long time coming, long time astray; She dug a hole in the earth in this foreign land; But her fingers leave no imprints in desert ground, her song make no sound.
Medea: Chorus! Oh my chorus! Sing it for me, home.
Chorus: oo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooooooooo oo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooooooooo Shewillreturnathousandyearsoldoo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooooooooo fromhourglassliving;oo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooooooooo and when she kisses him she fills his mouth with sand; o-o oooooooo acastaroundtheinside.oo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooooooooo
Medea: Angel, all the angels, healhim,makehimhome
Chorus:* They say that Aphrodite dips her cup In the clear stream of the lovely Cephisus; It is she who breathes over the land the the breath Of gentle honey-laden winds; her flowing locks She crowns with a diadem of sweet-scented roses,
Where will you find (the) hardness of purpose? How will you build resolution in hand or heart To face horror without flinching? When the moment comes, and you look at them -
The moment for you to assume the role of murderess - How will you do it? When your sons kneel to you for pity, Will you stain your fingers with their blood? Your heart will melt, you will know you cannot.
Messenger: The bride will receive the golden coronet, Receive her merciless destroyer; With her own hands she will carefully fit The adornment of death around her golden hair.