Danse Macabre
Bite the bullet brave voyagers of war's wailing screams and cries
which terrify not few fighters that tremble not at new nightmares dreamt in somber tents.
The circus invokes its skull clients to its danse macabre.
Behold the skull's countenance contemplating thy face,
seeking to crown thee some forlorn day.
I will dance upon the fields of thy grave,
I will smile at your progeny,and take to wife thine daughter;
And together we shall partake in life's debauchery.
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