Danse Macabre

Zig, zig, zig, Death in cadence
Striking with his heel a tomb
Death at midnight plays a dance-tune
Zig, zig, zig, on his violin
The winter wind blows and the night is dark;
Moans are heard in the linden-trees
Through the gloom, white skeletons pass
Running and leaping in their shrouds
Zig, zig, zig, each one is frisking
The bones of the dancers are heard to crack-
But hist! of a sudden they quit the round
They push forward, they fly; the cock has crowed