- Zig, zig, zig, Death in cadence,Striking a tomb with his heel,Death at midnight plays a dance-tune,Zig, zig, zag, on his violin.The winter wind blows, and the night is dark;Moans are heard in the linden trees.White skeletons pass through the gloom,Running and leaping in their shrouds.Zig, zig, zig, each one is frisking,You can hear the cracking of the bones of the dancers.A lustful couple sits on the mossSo as to taste long lost delights.Zig zig, zig, Death continuesThe unending scraping on his instrument.A veil has fallen! The dancer is naked.Her partner grasps her amorously.The lady, it's said, is a marchioness or baronessAnd her green gallant, a poor cartwright.Horror! Look how she gives herself to him,Like the rustic was a baron.Zig, zig, zig. What a saraband!They all hold hands and dance in circles.Zig, zig, zag. You can see in the crowdThe king dancing among the peasants.But hist! All of a sudden, they leave the dance,They push forward, they fly; the cock has crowed.Oh what a beautiful night for the poor world!Long live death and equality!—Danse Macabre by Henri CazalisOne night, stormy and full of thunder,You hear a rumbling from the graveWhen suddenly the ground is torn asunderAnd the dead begin to wave.It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!They rise up from the world down underAnd you stop and stare as in a tranceYou eyes grow big as with wonderAs all of them begin to dance.It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!They mambo, tango, shimmy and shakeThey do the foxtrot, quickstep, jiveTwirling around at their own wakeDancing, staying not alive.It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!It's the night! Night of the dancing dead!—Zed Word Jamboree, "Night of the Dancing Dead":Carpals, tarsals, vertebrae, that's us clicking on paradeI move without any muscles, my skull's a cavernous hallTendons are made for pulling, my friend, I don't need them at all!—Skeletons on Parade, LudoAnd whosoever shall be foundWithout the soul for getting downMust stand and face the hounds of hellAnd rot inside a corpse's shellMiss Flitworth: I take it you do dance, Mr. Bill Door?
Mr. Bill Door: Famed for it, Miss Flitworth.And they were singingBack to back, ghoul, belly to bellyWell, I don't give a damn 'cause I'm stone dead alreadyBack to back, oh oh oh, belly to bellyIt's a zombie jamboree— "Zombie Jamboree", Rockapella coverAs the sob of the breezeSweeps over the treesAnd the mists lie low on the fenFrom grey tomb-stonesAre gathered the bonesThat once were women and menAnd away they goWith a mop and a mowTo the revel that ends too soonFor cockcrow limits our holidayThe dead of the night’s high noon!Ha! ha!Then is the ghosts’ high noon!