There's blood on the walls
On the chairs, on the floors
And the dancers should be quarantined
And the doorman departs after stealing a kiss
His lips curl into something obscene
And the dresses and gowns look like Dracula's sink
And the band's only playing one tune
And the king to the queen
Is nowhere to be seen
Having gone out to howl at the moon
Put gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
Put gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
And there's eyes in the punch
And there's somebody's lunch
In a puddle next to the dead bouquets
The host is aghast as the compare at last
Thinks of something offensive to say
And the waiters hold platters of P45's
As their pockets are robbed of the air
And the masks are more kind than the faces behind
And nothing looks holy in there
Put your gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
Put gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
Put gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
Put gold in your pocket
Jump into the river
Sharpen your teeth for the masquerade
