It was a dark and stormy night or so the Heralds say
The lightening striking constantly transformed the night today
The thunder or the castle 'round or thusly runs the tail
And rising from the North East tower there came a fearful wail
It was no beast nor banshee that the castle folk knew well
No prisoner in agony nor demon trapped by spell
No ghost that moaned in penance nor a soul in mortal fright
T'was just the Countess singing for she practiced every night
The Countess was convinced that she should have been born a bard
And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard
For they must listen to her sing and smile at what they heard
And swear she had a golden voice that rivaled any bird
The Countess was convinced that she had wedded beneath her state
And so the worst laugh fell upon her meek and mild mate
Not only must the Count each night endure her every song
But suffer silent her abuse be blamed for every wrong
It was a dark and stormy night or so the bards have heard
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the music ceased, so when dawn raised his head
Within the tower the servants found the Countess stiff and dead
The hearlds came at once to judge if there had been foul play
And questioned all those carefully to hear what they would say
And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light
That every movement of the Count was vouched for on that night
The castle folk by ones and twos came forward on their own
To swear the Count had never once that night been all alone
So though the tower had been locked tight with two keys to the door
One his one hers the Count was plain exhaled of guilt for sure
At length the Heralds then p***ounced her death as suicide
And all within the district voiced themselves quite satisfied
It was a verdict after all that none wished to refute
Though no one could imagine why she tried to eat her lute
The lightening striking constantly transformed the night today
The thunder or the castle 'round or thusly runs the tail
And rising from the North East tower there came a fearful wail
It was no beast nor banshee that the castle folk knew well
No prisoner in agony nor demon trapped by spell
No ghost that moaned in penance nor a soul in mortal fright
T'was just the Countess singing for she practiced every night
The Countess was convinced that she should have been born a bard
And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard
For they must listen to her sing and smile at what they heard
And swear she had a golden voice that rivaled any bird
The Countess was convinced that she had wedded beneath her state
And so the worst laugh fell upon her meek and mild mate
Not only must the Count each night endure her every song
But suffer silent her abuse be blamed for every wrong
It was a dark and stormy night or so the bards have heard
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the music ceased, so when dawn raised his head
Within the tower the servants found the Countess stiff and dead
The hearlds came at once to judge if there had been foul play
And questioned all those carefully to hear what they would say
And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light
That every movement of the Count was vouched for on that night
The castle folk by ones and twos came forward on their own
To swear the Count had never once that night been all alone
So though the tower had been locked tight with two keys to the door
One his one hers the Count was plain exhaled of guilt for sure
At length the Heralds then p***ounced her death as suicide
And all within the district voiced themselves quite satisfied
It was a verdict after all that none wished to refute
Though no one could imagine why she tried to eat her lute