Waltz With The Dead

Tunes of mendacity whispers

Throughout the gloom, like echoes

Of mystery or a lullaby of doom

An illusion of pleasure

An illusion of pain

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Come, yes, you and listen to

My melody

Say can you do

Another such sweet harmony

An illusion of pleasure

An illusion of pain

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Deep in the mist you can hear him

Softly playing his strings in order

To snatch your soul far away

Deep in the mist you reveal him

A naked shape of peace as he plays

You a song to lure you to stay

Such nimble fingers that play

Upon the fiddle. In shadows they

Linger like the darkest of riddles

An illusion of pleasure

An illusion of pain

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Yield to the beauty and

Soon you will waltz with the dead

Deep in the mist you can hear him,

Hearken not, not to the sound

From upon his luring strings.

Deep in the mist you reveal him,

The fiddler of the lost and drowned

That slip you a song to sing.