Demon Of The Violin

Black and white in a midnight dreary
Upon the screech of the violin merry
The audience was there one, two, three
Wondering what was about to be
Black horn popped out with the shrill a pony
Wings of death that come in handy
Puppets come alive with a tip of the bow
Dance in the formation of a dreaded row
A note is played as the ground starts to shudder
The puppets go silent after the mutter
Dance, played in the name of demon
Starts the concert for death of Simon
The ritual of death is being performed
And never will stop till end of the lore