Masque Of The Red Death Lyrics - Hades

(inspired by the work of Edgar Allen Poe) 

I. Red Death 

It was a time when life was short 

Long devastated was the land 

Never had there ever been 

A more fatal plague against all man 

Pungent pain, sudden faintness 

Your energy begins to fade 

As you stand there somewhat daunted 

You know 'Red Death' is on it's way 

Blood, blood, blood and more blood 

Profuse bleeding at the pores 

You watch your blood slowly sizzle 

As your flesh dissolves some more 

Screams of anguish, blood still flowing 

Pollutes the ground a rotten red 

Your time has come, you must meet your maker 

As you slip into the valley of the shadow of death 

II. The Prince's Master Plan 

All men feared this great disaster 

But the valiant Prince had the only answer 

For his majesty and his chosen ones 

The inception of new life would free them of contagion 

Magnificent it was this structure of seclusion 

Surrounded by these walls so massive yet elusive 

The gates were welded shut impervious to those forsaken 

Never letting go of the souls that were taken 

There was beauty, there was wine 

Ambrosia and sweet nectar 

Flowing from within 

All appliances of pleasure 

Inside the Master-Plan 

Providing noble lunacy 

Outside the palace gates 

'Red Death' just sits and waits for you 

Narration: 

It was toward the close of the fifth or 

Sixth month of his seclusion, and while the 

Pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that 

The Prince Prospreo entertained his thousand 

Friends at a masked ball of the most unusual 

Magnificence... Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849) 

III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red Death 

Bizzare it was seven chambers 

Held this jubilee except for one 

It stood alone, the western wing 

Where no one shared it's offerings 

Blood tinted panes, brazier or fire 

Projects it's rays 

A clock stands tall, ominous 

It warns of death so soon to be 

So loud, so deep the guests pay heed 

The dissonant ring of ebony 

The crowd goes pale as darkness 

Shrouds the maskers in their revelry 

Then as the echos ceased 

A light laughter spread through the assembly 

And all is well 

Until the next chiming of old ebony 

The ebony clock struck the twelfth hour 

And everyting ceased as the revellers cowered 

The pendulum swings all still, all silent 

Save the voice of old ebony 

As the last chime died and sunk into silence 

Soon it was felt a presence so strange 

Tall and gaunt who is this masked figure 

Shrouded in habiliments of the grave? 

His blood splattered mask bore a striking resemblance 

The countenance of a rigid corpse 

He stalked to and fro in a slow, solemn movement 

Enraging the Duke, invasion of his sanctuary 

'Seize him, unmask him, ' commanded the prince 

'Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? 

You'll hang at sunrise! ' 

Not a person came forth it seemed like all was lost 

As the intruder make his way unimpeded 

An anon he went on trugged through each chamber 

Where the music once swelled and the dreams lived on and on 

The prince in pursuit dagger drawn aloft 

As the figure retreats to the seventh chamber 

He suddenly turns, a piercing sharp cry 

Now the Prince lay dead in the hall of the velvet... 

Then summoning the wild courage of despair, 

A throng of revellers at once threw themselves 

Into the black apartment, and seizing the mummer, 

Whose tall dark figure stood erect and motionless 

Within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped 

In unutterable horror at finding the grave 

Cerements and corpse-like mask, which they 

Handled with so violent a rudeness, untenated 

By any tangible form. 

And now was acknowlegded the presence 

Of the Red Death. He had come as a thief 

In the night and one by one droppd the revellers 

In the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, 

And died each in the despairing posture of his fall. 

As the life of the ebony clock went out 

With that the last of the gay. 

And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness 

And Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all... 

Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849)