[CrimsonFox]

And once again the lights they go out...and you now feel a presence all cold like the moon. And here a baying of wolves from the window. And you see a silhouette, one that's caped and then nothing, so black that the room cannot stand it and bumps into itself and the balcony doors that you closed up so tight, to keep out the smell do fling open and the cold cold wet air hits you and the drapes and curtains blow.

Yet the lights go on and you all look around and you see each other quite cozy and see that the people that started are all still here!

Oh wait...
Oh no you forgot to look down,
for on the settee is lying the man
who came up from below just in time you do see
and he now lays all flat
Just upon the settee

It is Chief Rum!
And his face is all pale
And his neck is all bloody
He appears to be drained
A lifeless white body

That poor villager, Herbert Wainscotting, the man whose coat had left him so many years before
And the one with the ordinary coat
And the ordinary robe
Has now lost his life

And the coat and the robe Sit and weep
In each others arms they weep
Until they together walk sleeve to sleeve
Out the window and end it all
And dive off the balcony
Holding each other

And land on the rocks below....and sink into the mire...
And the people watching can not bear to see this coat and this robe leave their master this way.
So they pick up Chief's body and dump it out too
Out the window to sink in the mirey goo...