La Danse Macabre
Gather ye ’round the graves tonight,
For we shall dance in sweet remembrance
We, the departed, worm-riddled, and decay’d,
Who patiently lie in wait for our descendants.
The drums of the Earth beat rhythm into the night,
And by that solemn tempo are we guided
O’er grassy knoll and o’er the bitter soil,
Where for ages our ancestors have resided.
Until the cock crows the coming of the morn,
We dance in our blackened reverie,
As the moon recedes and the sun ascends,
Then is a new day birthed from ancient history.