From the recordings Servants Of A Plan and Dance Of The Dead

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Lyrics

Dance Of The Dead

There's rain on the cobbles of these washed out streets
Where the Whitechapel Ghost is a tale few talk about
The gas lit rooms on the Eastside glows on this moonlit night
There are footsteps echoing

I wake to the ringing of the graveyard bell,
There's a voice in the room, I can hear it beckoning
There's panic on the streets like the hounds of hell
Now the dead have risen and their souls are hovering.

A hundred years, cold and crumbling, you were laid to rest, crows were circling,
The moonlight sheds another silent tear again,
The words on the gravestones, they disappear again,
The hounds of hell are approaching here again, home again.

It's the dance of the dead to save my soul,
The clock strikes one and the ghosts return again.
The dance of the dead, the dance of fear,
The white coloured eyes staring through my window pane.

The dance of the dead to save my soul,
The clock strikes one and the ghosts return again.
The dance of the dead, the dance of fear,
The white coloured eyes staring through my window pane.

This is no ordinary life, you must be careful what you find,
You could be looking at a time of great despair,
This haunting comes from what you sow
You've got no other place to go, you have to face the facts
And keep yourself awake.

It's the dance of the dead to save my soul,
The clock strikes one and the ghosts return again.
The dance of the dead, the dance of fear,
The white coloured eyes staring through my window pane.
Through my window pane,
Through my window pane.
Through my window pane.