Transylvanian Ways

from Race Against The Sun: Part Two by Dethonator

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Welcome, I bid you welcome
Enter, for the night is chill
Come freely, I am Dracula
Enter of your own free will
Ancient, the old man before me
Standing alone in the hall
Frozen, like marble, his bearing
But shadows dance macabre on the wall
A table set and waiting
Carafe of vintage wine
Though he declines to join me

He watches as I dine
Listen! The children of the night!
Listen! What music they make!
Stirring the soul of the hunter
Rest now, for the hour is late
I roam his halls in daylight
Again, my reason rocked
No sign of host, nor servant
His chambers, barred and locked
Shaving alone in my mirror
Shattered, the glass cast to the floor
England (cut of the razor)
Is not Transylvania (Now, in his eyes, a crimson gaze)
Forgive me (there was no reflection)
Our ways are not yours (what are these Transylvanian ways?)
Again, we spoke till dawn
He bade me letters write
That I should stay on for a month
To guide him to his London life
His table strewn with books
Red circles on a map
His properties in London town
The ancient abbey shell Carfax
Now, from my tower room
Once more, the lupine call
Behold the crawling bat
The Count upon the wall!
His sanctum I shall find
A room I haven’t tried
Beckons this doubtful guest
A bed for one to rest
Slumber for time unknown
No longer I’m alone
Fresh footprints stir the must
Three shapes of moonlit dust
White flesh and wanton curves
Cold smiles and eyes that burn
Sharp mouths and scarlet lips
Paralysed, I await their kiss
Hot fury blasts the room
Behold The Count; visage of doom

How dare you? This man is mine!
I tell you, until I am done, this man is mine!
This man is mine!
Flee in failure from the crypt
Salvation, through my hands, has slipped
Born on wheels of gypsy slaves
Soon The Count will cross the waves
Wolf will howl and wind will moan
Through his halls I walk alone
Left to rot, insane with fright
Until the brides come out at night…


from Race Against The Sun: Part Two, released November 27, 2020


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Dethonator England, UK

Heavy Metal, Melodic Metal.
Est. 2009

Sounds like Rob Halford flying a Spitfire made of Maiden t-shirts to a Metallica concert.


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