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Coney Isle/Glistening and glimmering/Rising bright/Drenched with light

See it smile/Beckoning and shimmering/All agleam/Like a dream

Coney Island, the eighth Wonder of the World, was not simply an isle when amusement parks had been built. It breathed, it saw, it searched. You could not conceal any secrets.

Oh, they tried. Mr. Y most of all. Foolish name he had taken for himself— Coney knew his real name, when it had been whispered in the dead of night by the suffering young woman who would become the Ooh La La Girl. Erik.

The island knew how utterly desperate Erik longed for a woman named Christine Daaé, the Soprano of the Century. She had never set foot on the island, not yet, but from Erik the island knew everything about her. The island knew how utterly desperate Meg Giry, the vaudeville prostitute, longed for Erik, even though he was distant with her at best. The island knew how utterly desperate Eléanore Giry longed for her daughter to be noticed, to have Erik forget about this Christine Daaé.

But when Christine Daaé stepped onto the wooden pier with her husband and son, the island knew that everything was about to change.

Christine Daaé wasn't Christine Daaé anymore; she was Mme. la Vicomtesse Christine de Chagny, wife to a gambler and mother to a prodigy. Coney could tell that she wasn't everything she claimed to be.

But Coney could wait. The truth would reveal itself in time.

Every fantasy set free/Sodom rising by the sea

The island finally discovered the reasons beneath the tension and the secrets: Erik and Christine Daaé had made love, many years before, and that one night resulted in an abandonment and a flight and a child.

They were fools, truly. They couldn't foresee what would happen?

But most humans, Coney had learned over the years, were not observant in the least.

Coney knew how Erik had tried, over the years, again and again, to destroy that strange automata he had made of Christine Daaé. He couldn't until Christine Daaé arrived to sing at Phantasma. The island knew where the decimated automata had ended up: underneath the pier in the hopes that it would wash out to sea, but it was too bulky, so it was stuck underneath the wood, the glassy eyes staring at nothing. More than once it had been mistaken for a woman trying to drown herself.

Coney also knew when Christine Daaé's husband, Raoul, would end up when he was trying to forget: the bars. The island listened to Meg Giry talk to Raoul, trying to convince him to leave. Coney agreed with the girl; there was no place in America for Christine Daaé and her husband and son.

But then Erik made the bet with Raoul on Christine Daaé's life. Coney created a small earthquake, not enough to damage but enough to try to convince the men that placing a bet on a life was utter foolishness and nonsense. But of course they didn't understand the message the island was trying to send.

But then it was the night of the Concert.

It was doomed from the beginning.

Coney knew Meg Giry's utter anguish when she performed that trashy song in front of the crowds. And once again, Eléanore Giry had to tell her daughter that Erik was not watching. He had been with Christine Daaé and hadn't thought of Meg Giry at all.

Then Christine Daaé, with promises from Raoul and Erik, stepped onto the stage.

Coney wished it could tell her to run and never look back.

But of course, she sang and chose the option that would lead to her downfall.

Coney knew the moment Meg Giry, the vaudeville prostitute, the Ooh La La Girl, finally snapped. Coney knew where she was taking Christine Daaé's son. It was unfortunate, really, that humans were so shortsighted. They almost didn't find Meg Giry and the boy in time.

Then Coney felt Christine Daaé's blood seeping into its surface, and knew it was over.

Erik tried to run. He went back to Phantasma and then disappeared with Christine Daaé's son. But the island wouldn't forget, even though the eager, bloodthirsty mobs eventually forgot about the chanteuse's fatal last performance.

Coney would never forget.

Coney Isle/Miracle on miracles/Light and sound/All around

Mile by mile/Loud and lewd and lyrical/Thrill on thrill/Never still...