From the recording Once Upon a Midnight


There are chords in the heart of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. Seven rooms full of color Prisms of light fall on the revelers Outside the corridor a brazier of fire Projects its rays through the tinted glass Gigantic clock made of ebony Pendulum swings to and fro When the hour is to be struck The revelers stop in their paces To and fro in the chambers Stalked a multitude of dreams And these dreams writhed about Taking their hue from the rooms There was much of the beautiful Much of the wanton Much of the bizarre Something of the terrible And not just a little of that which might have excited disgust And not just a little of that which might have excited disgust One last chamber, the black chamber With panes of scarlet, a deep blood color Spectral image tall and gaunt Shrouded as the grave Mask conceals a stiffened corpse Vesture shrouded in blood The Red Death had come Like a thief in the night And one by one the revellers dropped And died in the posture of the fall The ebony clock went out with the last And the flames of the tripod expired And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death Held dominion over all