(Chorus)
dreams brought on by the fever
fever brought on by the dreams
crouched, brooding, festering horror
intolerable thunder like artillery
these Dreams in the Witch House
subtle stirring of the black city outside
sinister scurrying of rats in the wormy partitions
creaking of hidden timbers in the centuried house
giving him a sense of strident pandemonium
the changeless, legend-haunted city of Arkham
this room which had harboured old Keziah Mason
gone mad and babbled of a small, white-fanged furry
un-explained curves and angles smeared on grey stone walls
red with non-Euclidean calculus and quantum physics
multi-dimensional reality, ghoulish hints of Gothic tales
fantastic legends of elder magic, obscuring imagination
hints from the dreaded Necronomicon of Abdul Alhazred
Book of Eibon, suppressed Unaussprechlichen Kulten
To correlate with his abstract formulae of space
the linkage of dimensions known and unknown
this room and these dreams in the old Witch-House
the oath to the Black Man and her new secret name of Nahab
hushed Arkham whispers of Keziah's persistent presence
stench often noted in the old attic after dreaded seasons
and the small, furry, sharp-toothed thing called Brown Jenkin
Through the rat hole in the room with peculiar angles
That led outside the boundaries of the world of space
from unplumbed voids beyond slanting surfaces
the touch of brain-fever and the dreams in the witch house
dreams wholly beyond the pale of sanity, bizarre monstrosities
panic, nausea of this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid
hallucinations across his vision a thousandfold more hateful than death
plunging through limitless abysses of inexplicably coloured twilight
Brown Jenkin, shocking little horror assailed into the fullest depths of sleep
evil expectancy in its tiny, bearded human face, hellishly long, canine teeth
companioned by the nebulous blur like an ancient crone
visions of absorbing vividness and convincingness, welcoming Nahab
an escort to the throne of Azathoth at the centre of ultimate chaos
signs the book of Azathoth in blood to take a new secret name
to follow the crone and Brown Jenkin to the throne of Chaos
the twilight abysses around him gleamed from other dimensions
bleak emptiness, fusion of dream and reality, superstitious
crone's withered claws clutching, rhythmic roaring
twilight amorphousness of vague abysses seething around him
flaming violet light, evilly grinning beldame, clutching, clawing
the black man in the unknown space stood out vividly
giving rise to the climax of that frightful dream
residual echoes of some horrible noise heard in dreams
changed to wisps of mist in this farther void of ultimate blackness
a black throne at the centre of Chaos
the"Black Man" of the witch-cult
the"Nyarlathotep" of the Necronomicon
and the dreams in the witch house
yellow-toothed morbidity tittered mockingly
paralysis of fear stifled all attempts to cry out
an infinitude of the shrieking abysses flashed past him
Keziah Mason beckoning and grimacing imperiously
the old witch and the fanged, furry horror
the bubble-congeries and the little polyhedron
the Necronomicon and the Black Book welled
infandous rhythms, blackest ceremonies of the Sabbat
unknown ritual, the witch croaking loathsome responses
murderous claws locked tightly around throat, twisted insane fury
a gnawing poignant abhorrence, mental and emotional paralysis
Brown Jenkin entered flesh and then soon madness and death.
