Luyện nghe bài hát Masque Of The Red Death

(inspired by the of Edgar Allen Poe)

I. Red
It was a time life was short
devastated was the land
Never had there been
A fatal plague against all man
Pungent pain, faintness
Your energy begins to
As you stand there somewhat
You know 'Red is on it's way
Blood, blood, blood and blood
bleeding at the pores
You watch your blood sizzle
As your flesh dissolves more
of anguish, blood still flowing
Pollutes the a rotten red
Your time has come, you must meet your
As you slip into the valley of the shadow of

II. The Prince's Plan
All men feared this great
But the Prince had the only answer
For his and his chosen ones
The inception of new life free them of contagion
Magnificent it was structure of seclusion
Surrounded by these walls so massive yet
The gates were welded shut to those forsaken
Never letting go of the souls that taken
There was beauty, there was
and sweet nectar
Flowing within
All of pleasure
the Master-Plan
Providing noble
the palace gates
'Red Death' just and waits for you

It was toward the close of the or
sixth of his seclusion, and while the
pestilence most furiously abroad, that
the Prince Prospreo entertained his
friends at a ball of the most unusual
magnificence... Edgar Poe (1809-1849)

III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red
Bizzare it was seven
Held this jubilee for one
It stood alone, the western
Where no one it's offerings
Blood tinted panes, brazier or
Projects rays
A stands tall, ominous
It of death so soon to be
So loud, so deep the pay heed
The dissonant of ebony
The goes pale as darkness
Shrouds the maskers in their
Then as the ceased
A light laughter spread through the
And all is
Until the chiming of old ebony

The ebony clock the twelfth hour
And everyting as the revellers cowered
The pendulum swings all still, all
Save the voice of old
As the last chime died and into silence
it was felt a presence so strange
Tall and gaunt who is this masked
Shrouded in of the grave?
His blood splattered mask a striking resemblence
The countenance of a corpse
He stalked to and fro in a slow, solemn
Enraging the Duke, invasion of his
'Seize him, him, ' commanded the prince
'Who dares insult us this blasphemous mockery?
hang at sunrise! '
Not a person came forth it seemed all was lost
As the make his way unimpeded
An anon he on trugged through each chamber
Where the music once swelled and the dreams on and on
The prince in pursuit dagger drawn
As the figure retreats to the chamber
He turns, a piercing sharp cry
Now the Prince lay in the hall of the velvet...
summoning the wild courage of despair,
A throng of revellers at once themselves
the black apartment, and seizing the mummer,
Whose tall dark figure stood and motionless
Within the shadow of the clock, gasped
In unutterable horror at finding the
Cerements and corpse-like mask, they
Handled so violent a rudeness, untenated
By any form.
And now was the presence
Of the Red Death. He had as a thief
In the night and one by one droppd the
In the halls of their revel,
And died in the despairing posture of his fall.
As the life of the ebony went out
With that the of the gay.
And the of the tripods expired. And Darkness
And Decay and the Red Death illimitable dominion over all...
Edgar Poe (1809-1849)