Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Masque of the Red Death, artist - Hades. Album song Resisting Success, in the genre
Date of issue: 09.11.2017
Record label: Hades
Song language: English
Masque of the Red Death |
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 resemblence |
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) |