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Welcome to the masquerade!
This isn't the end
A dance we begin
I am sent from the night
You can't hide from the blight
I will follow you now
Your refuge has failed
And darkness prevailed
O, Prospero!
Where will I lead thee now?
Red wind flows swiftly through the vine
What is a curse holds true to what's divine
I am the walking plague sent in disguise
And in the seventh room, all will be mine
I see the hearse in the twisted eyes
Of the man who led me here
I hold the curse to the fall of man
I speak of myself
To speak of me
Will bring terror
I hold the fate of every man
I speak of the plague
To speak of it
Will surely bring terror
Silence!
Run to the hills
Tonight
Blood will spill
And
darkness
and
decay
and
the
red
death
held
illimitable
dominion
over
all.