The Dance of Death (Patrick Sky) Sing to me, sing to me, a tune that's made for dancing For I must do the dance of death for all the people watching Turn around, turn around, doctors, bakers, lawyers Coming from all walks of life, Whitmans and Tom Sawyers. Well, see the politician's grin as the dance gets wilder His dowager mother plays for him, don't you want to hear her? Smoke is rising thick as sugar as the heels go flying Kiss them babies two by two, swing those mothers sighing. Professional vampires do-si-do, suck their juices from them Makers of this hell on earth stick red hot dollars to them It's round and round the banker's vault as the count gets higher See the surplus alms collected, dancing in the fire. King of Paupers turn around, misery unending Promenade with pestilence, with rags upon you winding Monks and preachers ridicule you, curse you for your sinning Holy fathers dance you round, say death is your beginning. Queen of Fools turn around, life will be your folly Wave your wand at those who will waste away and worry Play them for the fools they are and make their steps up for them A clock that's shaken hard enough, it cannot stay in rhythm. Sing to me, sing to me, a tune that's made for dancing For I must do the dance of death for all the people watching. (c)Rabelaisian Music, Inc. GF apr00
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!