Some old press clippings, my uncle's notes, a bas-relief made of clay
The horrors that these convey have given me much dismay
I think I'm starting to go insane
Strange nightmare images haunt my brain
I'm dreaming of a dead city
Where Deep Ones swim in depths of night
Where Cthulhu's sleeping while stars go creeping
Until the time when they are right
I'm dreaming of a dead city
With angles Euclid wouldn't know
That was built strange eons ago, and will soon come up from down below
I'm dreaming of a dead city
Where Deep Ones swim in depths of night
Where Cthulhu's sleeping while stars go creeping
Until the time when they are right
I'm dreaming of a dark future
Ruled by that Three-Lobed Burning Eye;
When the Old Ones' coming is nigh, and you find that d**h itself may die