[Intro — minor piano like falling ash; lone cello; one distant bell] [Verse 1 — He (The Necromancer), low weary baritone, firm and quiet] My hall has no windows, my hall has no sun, A thousand small flames around me burn as one. Each flame is a name, each flame is someone's blood — I lit them all myself: my love, a silent flood. [Verse 2 — She (Death), cold-tender, like frost on glass] I, Death, knock at your door when the appointed hours call, But I leave your threshold untouched — my eyes say nothing at all. Not because you are deathless — you are mortal, like the rest: You hold the memory of those who sleep in earth's cold breast. [Pre-Chorus — duet, cello and piano interweaving] (He) Give me one more century — one only, the final one… (She) There is no «final» with me — my centuries never run… (Both) But while the candles burn — I will not touch your setting sun… [Chorus — minor key, full organ and strings, restrained power] I am the Lord of the Dead — and therefore servant of names, I hold their light over the abyss — their memory, their home, their flames. I am the Lord of the Dead — my crown weighs more than crowns of gold: For a king can be slain… but memory never grows old. [Verse 3 — He] Once someone asked me: «You are weary? Lie down, close your eyes and sleep…» But who then would keep watch over their lamps and fires deep? My dead are not my watchmen — I am their watch and their wall, In this order turned upside down — my war, my cross, my call. [Verse 4 — She] I have seen empires perish, I have seen gods burn out and die, But never memory carried on one back beneath the sky. When the last lamp goes out — I will come for you, my friend, And I myself will light your candle — and stand with it, to the end. [Bridge — the reversal: everything falls silent; wordless choir like wind over a thousand flames] (He, whispered) Tonight I will not sing the lullaby… I have no strength left… (She) Then listen: tonight it is they who sing to you. (Wordless choir, lulling) (He) …I hear them. Every one. By name. (She) Sleep, Necromancer. I will keep watch over the flames. [Final Chorus — minor maximum: organ, strings, both voices] I am the Lord of the Dead — and therefore servant of names, I hold their light over the abyss — their memory, their home, their flames. I am the Lord of the Dead — my crown weighs more than crowns of gold: For a king can be slain… but memory never grows old. [Outro — only piano and cello; a single candle] (She, whispered) Sleep. Your names are safe. (He, half-asleep) …And who remembers me?.. (She, whispered, like a lullaby) I do. I remember everyone. And you — most of all. [One bell toll; the flame does not go out]
