For The Dead Travel Fast

from Race Against The Sun: Part Two by Dethonator

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lyrics

My friend, welcome to The Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. At The Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and bring you to me. I trust you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. Your friend, Dracula.

Die, Victoria’s century
Zenith of Empire
Smog envelops London
Shrouds the gas lamp’s fire
Irving in the theatre
Ripper in the throng
Dreams in the Lyceum
Weave this gothic song

Enter the East, Man of the West
London solicitor, new business to address
A count obscure and unreknowned
Upon the map his ancient castle isn’t found
The Danube crossed, the mountains rise;
Enter the land beyond the forest
Night, woke from disquieting dreams
Howls, the cries disturb my sleep
Brace, forget these childish thoughts
This appointment I must keep

Onwards, for advancement’s sake
Onwards, through this land of beauty
Onwards, for your Mina’s sake
Onwards, with a sense of duty

Through regions wild the train rolls on
Among the Magyar and the Szekely and the Hun
A fear, abstract – Walpurgisnacht?
These locals, wrought in superstition
Why do they withhold advice?
Cross themselves, avert their eyes?
The barkeep’s wife, with fear transfixed
Thrust on me her crucifix

Wear this for your mother’s sake
Wear this on the road you’re taking
Wear this for your mother’s sake
Go now, for your coach is waiting

Trees pour down the hillside
Beauty in the bleak
Rise, the seat of Isten
Dusk on mountain peak
Shepherding the darkness
Twilight growing cold
Strangers growing fearful
Nigh, the mountain road

The coachman halts, all stare around
As snowflakes fall without a sound
The horses plunge, now screams of fright
A carriage, black, out of the night
With strength and skill prodigious, the carriage driver
On through the darkling forest, into the mist
Strange fires guide the carriage, a pale rider
Races the Borgo Pass
Strange words, gesticulations, remarks remembered
Their garbled pagan nonsense, I once dismissed
Their wards and incantations, terrors engendered
For the dead travel fast
Denn die toten reiten schnell
Denn die toten reiten schnell

Feeling the fear and the wonder
Am I still in the land of the living?
Yet, before I can venture a question,
We are moving, and the castle awaits
For the dead travel fast, now I know this:
There is meaning in folk superstition
Though now fearful I question this venture,
It is over and the castle awaits.