Hand Touching Hand We Slowly Turn
Sound of bones clicking on stones,
the dancers turn around the room
all equal under death's tune.
The brush of skeletal lips,
against the back of your hand,
a whisper carries over the band.
"Join your hand to mine
through verse and prose
allow for us to intertwine
until the dance separates
me from your mind again."
Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
Danse Macabre by Bernt Notke (c.1440-c.1509)