| Danse Macabre |
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Death is tapping its foot
To a bewitching tune
Truly in a joyful mood
Clouds covering the moon
In the midnight hour
The dead perform a dance
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
In the midnight hour
The dead perform a dance
Peasants, nobles or kings
Like puppets on a string
Dance they all will
When Death spreads its wings
In the midnight hour
The dead perform a dance
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
In the midnight hour
The dead perform a dance
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
Like withered flowers
Now skeletons in trance
One can hear the North winds blow
But louder is the violin
The living, their heads they bow
For they know Death will always win
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
In the midnight hour
The dead perform a dance
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
Like withered flowers
Now skeletons in trance
Danse Macabre Danse Macabre Danse Macabre
It's already certain
For Death allows no chance |
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