Ball Of The Dead (Waltz In Black)

I see you,
Standing alone, so couth,
In your black gown and shoes,
Looking so sad.
Take my hand,
Won't you join me in dance,
Maybe you'll find romance,
At the Ball of the Dead.

Dance with me,
Under the chandelier,
By the candelabre,
Of flickering flame,
The walled mirrors,
Reflect us everywhere,
As we waltz around the floor,
Again and again.

The minstrels play,
Their laments from the stage,
As we dance the night away,
In a dreamlike embrace.
Oh how the laughter lifts,
A smile behind every mask,
Everyone's pleased as Punch,
As he batters the maid.

To stop the rage,
The Knave sells him sausages,
As the crocodile eats his date,
To the Jester's applause.
Everything seems surreal,
A phantasmagoric feel,
It's all going on as we,
Continue the waltz.

The Harlequin,
Cries, "Let the fun begin!"
All the while on his lips,
His smile is a snear,
From trays held askew,
He passes the Witch's brew,
Around all the dancing fools,
While the Joker stirs tears.

Feel the ritual,
As laughter turns to cackles,
Announcing the death rattles,
Of the other guests,
One by one they fall,
Disappear from the ball,
Leaving us all alone,
To continue our dance.

Sleep my dear,
The Ball of the Dead is over,
As Death watches from the door,
There's no turning back.
Now that the ball is done,
It seems you're the chosen one,
The sacrificial virgin,
The Waltz in Black.