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Goat of Mendes
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A Minuet of Ghosts
Listen close, oh, weary traveler
For an ancient tale I'll tell
Upon the hills a haunted palace stands
Where some noblemen still pay
For the grace from which they fell
In daylight a crumbling ruin
Its archways dusty cobwebs span
Mouldering tapestries rot in its empty halls
And the wind moans round the barren walls
Sings of bitterness to come
As midnight falls in silver moonlight
Shadows always dance in the castle-keep
Swing and sway in a timeless minuet
Watch the centuries pass by
Its dwellers are denied of their eternal sleep
From behind the shattered windows
An unseen orchestra plays
As slowly a banquet of specters
To its eerie music sways
And the centuries pass by
But deliverance never came
So they dance each night
For their lost souls to redeem
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Lady moon shines in milk white pallor
Through the fallen castles gate
Restored to all its former glory
Each night until the morning breaks
The clock strikes twelve as moving figures
From nowhere in the ballroom rise
Lords and ladies luminescent
Centuries dead, but still alive
From nowhere frail music rises
As the shadows coalesce
They dance a minuet of ghosts
Swiftly swaying arabesque
Candles flicker, they recreating
A moving image surreal
As an unseen violins moaning
For the dancers in the hall
A company of translucent nobles
Amongst their spectral audience
Through dead for years, their apparitions
Perform a feast, which never ends
They dance a ghostly minuet
Pirouettes of shadows
Luminescent silhouettes
Moving in the darkness
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