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Forgotten but not gone

Her heart refused her any death

Alone, abandoned in the wretched pit

Bereft of company, dreading every breath

At night she walks, forlorn, to harvest a hand to hold

Dying lonely to a spiteful beating heart

She craves the comfort of a hand’s caress

Hear her voice from the oubliette

But mind the knife she has hidden in her dress

(Chorus)

Penny the Dreadful waltzing along

May you find dread for hearing her song

Penny the Dreadful waltzing for gore

It is your hands that she’s coming for