[Verse 1] Candles gutter down an empty hall, he's slipped the feast to face the wall alone, Duncan's laughter bleeding through the stone, Macbeth counts reasons like a rosary of bone. If it were done when 'tis done, he whispers low, then 'twere well it were done quickly, done and gone— surcease, he calls it, just an ending, just a sleep, but something in his chest won't let him keep [Chorus] the dagger down, the dagger down, he's weighing crown against a drowning sound of conscience ringing like a chapel bell— screw your courage to the sticking-place, she says, and all is well, but is it well, is it well? [Verse 2] Duncan is his king, that's reason one, and kinsman too, same blood beneath the sun, and guest besides, who ought to shut the door against the murderer, not open it for more. This man's so meek, so mild upon the throne, the angels will go trumpet-tongued with grief alone, heaven's cherubs riding blind upon the storm, tears like a flood will drown the castle warm. [Verse 3] He's got no spur to prick his purpose on, no reason but the hunger to be crowned— vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself and falls on the far side, facedown on the ground. "We will proceed no further," he decides, "he hath honored me of late, let that be found"— I dare do all that may become a man, who dares do more is none, is none, is none. [Chorus] the dagger down, the dagger down, he's weighing crown against a drowning sound of conscience ringing like a chapel bell— screw your courage to the sticking-place, she says, and all is well, but is it well, is it well? [Bridge] Lady Macbeth arrives with ice behind her eyes: was the hope drunk wherein you dressed yourself so proud? She calls him coward, calls him less than man, says the one who'd dare it is the only man that counts. She's got the mettle, spirit tough as nails— drown the chamberlains in wassail till they're dead to sound, smear the daggers red across their sleeping hands, let the blame fall where the wine-soaked blankets lie. [Verse 4] He bends, he folds, "I am settled now," he says, "I'll bend up every corporal agent to this feat." Mock the time with fairest show, he learns— false face must hide what the false heart means to keep. This is the turning point of all he'll be: he knew the wrong, and still he lost the war. [Chorus] the dagger down, the dagger down, no more debating, no more drowning sound, screw your courage to the sticking-place, she said, and he said yes, and that's the hour Scotland lost its king, and lost him too, I guess. [Outro] Remember surcease, chamberlains, and mettle, and wassail deep, remember he knew better, and he did it anyway— that's the lobby, that's the sticking-place, that's the price he'll pay.
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