My morning is mid-night
Fancy and Free
Lust without Love ... Good without God
A puppet without strings
Far beyond the fountainheads of faith and fear
With bell, book and candle we peer into the depth of an allegoric abyss
With bell, book and candle we seek the falsehood in the truth
With bell, book and candle we seek the truth in the falsehood
From the art and the heart of darkness we cry out to hasten the marrow

From the art and the heart of darkness we cry out to herald the departure of the winter winds

Morning mist and summer dew shall wash the wasteland of our spirit
Morning mist and summer dew shall wash the wasteland of our soul
From the art and heart of darkness within the Ivy Manor
With bell, book and candle we shall hasten the marrow
With its mid-summers hopes
With its mid-summers dreams
With its mid-summers passions
That eventually fades unto its mid-summers night