Solemn little dancev6

[Verse 1] Rain drove hard against the crypt’s iron door, I shouldered through with a lantern nearly spent. A keeper in a coat the color of old bone Raised his chin beside the burial rows. The floor tiles buckled; glass lay in the dust, And every name was blurred by winter’s breath. “Keep still,” he said. “The storm has sealed the hill. By dawn, the drifts will hide the way you came.” [Chorus] Round the stone tables, the shadows take the floor, Midnight has opened every sealed-up door. Hear the bone-white heels and the measured tread— The dead have come to dance with the living dead. The ball turns colder; the candles lean, No guest walks out the way they came in. [Verse 2] A yellow lamp gave one last crooked blink; The windows wore a skin of clouded ice. Then sheets slid loose from hinges furred with rust, And someone rose with snow still on his sleeve. A knife sprang upright from the keeper’s case; My hands locked tight around the lantern frame. He drew a bow across a saw’s rough teeth, And pale coats wheeled beneath the vaulting stone. [Chorus] Round the stone tables, the shadows take the floor, Midnight has opened every sealed-up door. Hear the bone-white heels and the measured tread— The dead have come to dance with the living dead. The ball turns colder; the candles lean, No guest walks out the way they came in. [Bridge] Hush—the grinning skulls have found their partners. The crowd rushed hard for the narrow stair; The iron bolt tore free and struck the flagstones, While snow packed white against the entrance there. The keeper bowed. The dancers closed the circle. I learned too late what every guest must know: A storm can bury footprints in an hour— But not the names the crypt has learned to hold. [Final Chorus] Round the stone tables, the shadows take the floor, Midnight has opened every sealed-up door. Hear the bone-white heels and the measured tread— The dead have come to dance with the living dead. The ball turns colder; the candles lean, No guest walks out the way they came in. [Outro] The wick gave out; the bow fell still. The moon kept watch above the crypt’s cold stone. The shadows turned once more around the table— By morning, none would leave alone.