It's an old old house
Winding stair and all
And there's a portrait of Isabel
Down a dusty hall
She's in her favorite chair
With her favorite books
One would be Jane Eyre
The other Buddenbrooks
When the clock strikes eight
Down the winding stair
Come the wedding guests
Who are not quite there
At the stroke of nine
The orchestra appears
Ghostly mandolins
That you can't quite hear
When the clock strikes ten
Here's a bride in white
Though she's hard to see
In the flickering candlelight
With her shadow groom
She glides across the floor
Of the old ballroom
To fade a little more
When the clocks strikes eleven
For man and wife
No sharper words under heaven
No sharper knife
As from the bridegroom's eye
There flows a blood red tear
To see the wedding guests
begin to disappear
When the clock strikes twelve
As well it must
We'll trust all's well
When all returns to dust
Just remember love
Our two souls are one
With their own damned notions
Of when our love is done
It's an old old house
Winding stair and all
And there's a portrait of Isabel
Down a dusty hall
Recorded on: Anthology One
