Les Morts Dansant

Cannons roared, in the valley they thundered

While the guns lit up the night

Then it rained and both sides wondered

Who is wrong and who is right?

On the wire like a ragged old scarecrow

Bloody hands and broken back

When they fire, see him pirouette solo

Jump in time to the rat-a-tat

What a night though it's one of seven

What a night for the dancing dead

What a night to be called to heaven

What a picture to fill your head

To fill your head

By the wall in silhouette standing

Through a flash of sudden light

Cigarette from his mouth just hanging

Paper square to his heart pinned tight

Gather 'round, reluctant marksmen

One of them to take his life

With a smile he gives them pardon

Leaves the dark and takes the light

What a night though it's one of seven

What a night for the dancing dead

What a night to be called to heaven

What a picture to fill your head

To fill your head

They dispatch their precious cargo

And knock him back right off his feet

And they pray may no one follow

Better still to face the beast

When the field has become a garden

And the wall has stood the test

Children play and the dogs run barking

Who would think or who would guess?

What a night though it's one of seven

Le mort dansant

What a night for the dancing dead

What a night to be called to heaven

What a picture to fill your head

To fill your head

What a night though it's one of seven

Le mort dansant

What a night for the dancing dead

What a night to be called to heaven

What a picture to fill your head

What a night

What a night though it's one of seven

Le mort dansant

What a night for the dancing dead

What a night to be called to heaven, heaven

What a picture to fill your head