Roll up, roll up to the Circus dance,

Roll up, roll up, see the clown take his stance.

Witness the night where the Harlequin died,

Witness the night that the killer clown cried.

Witness the plants and the flowers all weep,

Witness the sinners sow what they reap.

Remember the brightness of that foggy day,

Now watch the bat turn in dismay.

No killing was gone, and morals were lies

For some, so subtly perfect were dark cloudy skies.

The jester is gone but the doctor is out,

And not for the first time, the bat was in doubt.

Did he do wrong, or did he do right?

What would become of this dark, stormy night?