Through the Carpathian mist, the wheels start to turn, Under a blood-red moon, where the old bonfires burn. The wolves are all singing, a chorus of dread, As I travel the road to the land of the dead. The driver is silent, cloaked in the night, Taking me far from the comfort of light. Welcome to my house, enter freely and bold, Leave some of the happiness the outside worlds hold. I am the shadow, the lord of the stone, Count Dracula, waiting, forever alone. Step into the parlor, ignore the cold breeze, While the wind outside plays a dirge through the trees. Come closer, young man, your blood is so sweet, A beautiful feast for the shadows to eat... Don't listen to the master, don't look at his eyes, Rest in our arms where the holy cross dies. Back! Back, I say! He belongs to my name! Your hunger will burn in my eternal flame! He is not for your pleasure, his mind must remain, To guide my dark soul to the London terrain! The doors are all locked, the castle is still, I am a prisoner to his dark holy will. Castellum... Silentium...