Video Danse Macabre de Alan Jones 2025 Lyrics Lyrics

Alan Jones - Danse Macabre Lyrics

From the depths of the vaults, the shadows
Slowly rise, and peer at the world
With unseeing eyes
They crouch; they crawl, on bleach-white
Bones, glistening through their ragged clothes

Figures with grotesque limbs distorted
That reach out and touch each passing soul
The orchestra of death playing for the reaper
To herald in his clarion call
They're the living dead summoned by the dying
To lead them to the Danse Macabre

Who has awakened them, from eternal rest
And who are they calling, to the dance of death
Who will follow, the Danse Macabre
Rich or poor, wife or child

The cloaked figure of death with his scythe has
Chosen, for only the dying can join the dance
Only the dying can follow the dancers
Only they can join the funeral march
In the dark streets they gather
The dying together, and then they'll dance
The Danse Macabre
Follow us, follow the dancers
Leave this world of pain and strife
Follow us and end the suffering
We'll take you to a better life
Leave the living, follow the dancers
And join us in this one last dance
Leave the living, follow the music
And we'll all dance the Danse Macabre
Open cemetery gates beckon, the dancing dead
And swirling mist welcomes, the funeral cortege
The vaults gape wide open, as the figures draw
Near, the pathway to hell, has led them here

Escorting dancers spin and stagger, grotesque
Figures in Death's stage show
Their movements quicken as the tempo increases
As faster and faster the rhythm grows
Music composed in the depths of hell, by the
Players of the Danse Macabre

Follow us and end the suffering
We'll take you to a better life
Leave the living, follow the dancers
And join us in this one last dance
Leave the living, follow the music
And we'll all dance the Danse Macabre

No crowd to cheer the dead and the dying
No one to hear their mournful crying
One by one they dance out of the night
Out of life and out of sight

Dancers usher the dying forward
Ever onward and all in line
Echoes of the past surround them
As they fade back into the mistas of time
As the vaults doors slowly close behind
Them to the final strains of
The Danse Macabre