The gates are closed, the bolts are welded They've left the red death far behind In the abbey's deep seclusion There's just beauty, there is wine
The external world is dying Death is raging in the shade No time to think about the terror Let's celebrate the masquerade
But who's that stranger in the dark? His vesture is dabbled in blood His masque shows scarlet signs of pest Masque of the red death
The fete is held in seven clambers Triponds spread a gleaming light Glare and glitter, madman fashions Feverish dreams in the dead of night
The mighty clock strikes twelve, it's midnight And the echoes fade away The crowd becomes aware of a figure Dressed in cerements of the grave
But who's that...
Try to catch him, try to gasp him Try to seize and to unmask him Prince Prospero foams with rage But he cries out And his death-shout Took possession of the whole crowd 'cause the red death entered their cage
Darkness and decay, and the red death Holds dominion over all