Mistick Krewe of Comus dance into the light
Shaking off the heaviness of the night
Enchanted to confess to the Abbot of misrule
Appointed to preside o’er the Feast of Fools

Laissez le bon temps
Laissez le bon temps
Let the good times roll

I can’t lose to mystic fools

I only sing to the echo of my soul
Over your vice
The lovely siren of necromancy
I won’t hear twice

Laissez le bon temps
Laissez le bon temps

The lord of misrule speaks no more