"FOR MY own part, I have never had a thought which
I could not set down in words with even more distinctness
than that with which I conceived it. There is, however,
a class of fancies of exquisite delicacy which are
not thoughts, and to which as yet I have found it absolutely
impossible to adapt to language. These fancies arise in
the soul, alas how rarely. Only at epochs of most intense
tranquillity, when the bodily and mental health are in
perfection. And at those weird points of time, where
the confines of the waking world blend with the world
of dreams. And so I captured this fancy, where all that
we see, or seem, is but a dream within a dream."

BY the last breath of the four winds that blow
I'll have revenge upon Fortunato
Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go
I've a cask of Amontillado"

Sheltered inside from the cold of the snow
Follow me now to the vault down below
Drinking the wine as we laugh at the time
Which is passing incredibly slow

(What are these chains that are binding my arm?)
Part of you dies each passing day
(Say it's a game and I'll come to no harm)
You'll feel your life slipping away

You who are rich and whose troubles are few
May come around to see my point of view
What price the Crown of a King on his throne
When you're chained in the dark all alone

(Spare me my life only name your reward)
Part of you dies each brick I lay
(Bring back some light in the name of the Lord)
You'll feel your mind slipping away