The Funeral March of a Marionette is
by Charles Gounod. The marionette’s broken—dead—
right off. The funeral procession starts off; it’s
D-minor. Mummers’ murmurs of regret are heard.
They are comical in the central section’s scene,
and quaint. Participants pause for tidbits, are fed.
Delightful musical refreshments flourish in
D-major. It is like a tasty bagatelle,
an appetizer—good, but hardly nourishing.
Then, on they travel in their inappreciable hell,
like puppets on parade in happy negligence,
D-minor, and back to the house wherein they dwell.


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