Peals of laughter behind closed doors;
The scent of flowers, of oils, and magic -
The sweet incense burns.
Father watching, through stain'd glass,
Sweet Mother sleeping in her crypt.
And that crazy laughter, through the halls does drift.
Bits of song, of joke and rhyme,
To kill the silence and pass the time.
But it doesn't really ease the pain
Of those Dead and those Betrayed.
Sorrow hides behind the mask of madness,
Of a hunter forced to live in idleness.
All for to find one who will Listen
For those to whom sweet Mother prayed.
Peals of laughter behind closed doors;
The scent of flowers, of oils and magic -
The sweet incense burns.
Brothers and Sisters, be warned:
Speak not your contempt and tread lightly
'Round Mother's keeper -
For the humble servant in jester's garb
Has yet to play his part.
So, beware the Fool of Hearts!