Macbeth

Oh horror, horror, horror!
Dark the thoughts that haunt my waking
Darker still the dreadful waiting
That consumes my tortured sleep.

If it were done when ‘tis done,
It were best it were done quickly
But the question wants an answer
When it’s finished, is it done?

Oh horror, horror, horror!
Dark the dagger I am holding
Darker still the blood is flowing
Through my fingers to the floor.

Time and time alone will tell
If the prophecy is finished
When I wear the crown of Scotland
I will know that it is done.

Oh horror, horror, horror,
Dark the stains upon my fingers
Darker still the wild whispers
From the burning heart of hell.

The witches’ word is answered
And Hecate proven faithful
But the wild wind is shrieking
That the terror is not done.

Oh horror, horror, horror!
Dark the shadows of the midnight,
Darker still the dying daylight
For Glamis has murdered sleep.

There are faces all around me
Pale and bloody in the darkness
But my broken heart is crying
Can it not be all undone?

Oh horror, horror, horror
Dark the empty throne I wanted
Darker still the hallways haunted
By the wraith of ravished sleep.

Now Birnam wood is marching,
The long road to Dunsinane
And the wild wind is shrieking
It is done! It is done!