[Intro: Blended - Whispered, inviting, library door creak, ticking clock] Well... come in. come in. I see you're here again for your favorite storyteller. Follow me... to my library, where dust has sealed the books in skin, where lamplight shivers, thin and amber pale. A tale I tell again, of love and sin, of one pale eye that made the midnight wail. Would you prefer some cookies and milk to go with your story? Well... that's a start. Now listening well. For seven nights I watched him in his sleep, and on the eighth, no moon was in the sky — I did the deed, and buried it so deep, beneath the floorboards where the silence lies. I laid his heart, still warm, still beating true, and yet it beats — O God — it never dies. So listen close, dear friend, if you have art — Can you not hear it? Hark! [Chorus: Waltz fully enters - low dread] Your beating heart in the walls and in the floor there's heartbeats in the door. You hear a scratching you hear a sound something must be in the ground. [Bridge: Sharp, defensive] It was not madness! It was sharpness! His eye, his vulture eye, would not let me be! [Verse: False calm] Inspectors come and inspectors go. They smile, they chat — so polite, you know. But something's there... they do not know. [Outro: Frantic crescendo to whisper] But I hear it! Louder! Louder! LOUDER STILL! In the walls! In the floor! Against my will! Is he caught? He doesn't know. He doesn't know... that it will never let him go.
