All turns to ash The king has passed Bells resonate From the ancestral house The doors of dawn Open their eyes His voyage begins At the end of the night All his servants stand in line His banquet's full of bread and wine A hooded guest appears in red He has been chosen Six black horses pull the hearse The jester speaks rhymes in reverse As he fell into an endless dream The Queen is mourning All is gray For he has gone away Our sun is gone Voices sing in minor tones All keys of sorrow Never to feel the autumn wind again Where he once walked Never to see the morning come again Until he returns The summer has burned away Into the arms of death he slipped Away His presence is like the sun His absence a howling wilderness