From the depths of the vaults, the shadows
slowly rise, and peer at the world,
with unseeing eyes
They crouch; they crawl, on bleach-white
bones, glistening through their ragged clothes
Figures with grotesque limbs distorted,
that reach out and touch each pa**ing soul
The orchestra of d**h playing for the reaper,
To herald in his clarion call
They’re the living dead summoned by the dying
to lead them to the Danse Macabre.
Who has awakened them, from eternal rest,
and who are they calling, to the dance of d**h
Who will follow, the Danse Macabre,
rich or poor, wife or child
The cloaked figure of d**h with his scythe has
chosen, for only the dying can join the dance
Only the dying can follow the dancers,
only they can join the funeral march
In the dark streets they gather,
the dying together, and then they’ll dance
the Danse Macabre
Follow us, follow the dancers,
leave this world of pain and strife
Follow us and end the suffering,
we’ll take you to a better life
Leave the living, follow the dancers,
and join us in this one last dance
Leave the living, follow the music,
and we’ll all dance the Danse Macabre
Open cemetery gates beckon, the dancing dead,
and swirling mist welcomes, the funeral cortege
The vaults gape wide open, as the figures draw
near, the pathway to hell, has led them here
Escorting dancers spin and stagger, grotesque
figures in d**h’s stage show
Their movements quicken as the tempo increases
as faster and faster the rhythm grows
Music composed in the depths of hell, by the
players of the Danse Macabre
Follow us and end the suffering,
we’ll take you to a better life
Leave the living, follow the dancers,
and join us in this one last dance
Leave the living, follow the music,
and we’ll all dance the Danse Macabre
No crowd to cheer the dead and the dying,
no one to hear their mournful crying
One by one they dance out of the night,
out of life and out of sight
Dancers usher the dying forward,
ever onward and all in line
Echoes of the past surround them,
as they fade back into the mistas of time
As the vaults doors slowly close behind
them to the final strains of
The Danse Macabre