Hammill Peter - Act One Lyrics

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The chorus the chorus has often an unenviable role to play

often a distasteful task to perform;

summoned as witness to uncounted crime

she's the silent accomplice of all

then she turns and comments on the action.

she hears... observes but must never betray her emotions

she moves unseen the characters oblivion of her presence;

a simple stage device.

she cannot hide cannot take sides.

it his curse that she must stay and comment on the action...

a young man named montresor lately received an urgent

letter from a dear friend of childhood

roderick usher by name

in which his friend begged him to come

with all speed to the family seat.

so during the whole of a dull dark and soundless day

in the autumn of the year

when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens

he had been passing through

a singularly dreary tract of country

'till he found himself

as the shades of night drew on

within view of the melancholy house of usher

Montresor: that must be the house.

there is no other within many miles.

but surely not... it's just an empty shell

devoid of life;

a sterile outcrop of stone amid the mire.

but there can be no doubt this is the house!

and yet it looks so dark so forbidding so dead.

that great crumbling facade

windows just like vacant eyes

that peer upon the stagnant

glistening blackness of the lake...

i have never seen anything like it!

the gloom the rotting dankness of the place...

it must be my imagination

the darkness and the cold...

yet still far beneath the plane of thought

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and quite against my will

my heart begins to tremble

in mad anticipation of the house

and i am forced to recognise

a consciousness of fear;

a cold and senseless fear

nameless formless chilling to the bone...

no it's just the leaden air that makes me

forget myself the weather and the dusk.

this must be all that sets my teeth on edge

and the hairs at the nape of my neck to attention.

and what of his sister?

this does not speak of her

but i understand she too lives with him

here in the house of usher

home of the family for five hundred years or more.

it's a strange place a strange house

an even stranger clan;

all either saints or mad

not an ordinary man among them;

geniuses all...

but all time-honoured as it is

the usher race has put forth no enduring branch.

and so from sire to son from sire to son

the patrimony and the name have been passed.

through all their ancestry no cousins

aunts of bastards

disturb the singular symmetry

of the family tree.

well then so i am here; i have come;

and it is too late to dark to run.

but what a chilling sight

this palace crouching in the night...

ah there! a light!

i am awaited; i am expected;

i shall not disappoint my friend.

end of act one

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