" . . . and then, from that dungeon in the West,
There rises up a melody, beguiling and forlorn.
It is the sweet, sad, self-deceiving murderer's song,
And it will not end 'til morn . . .'
-- Wheldrake, The Prisoners "

― Michael Moorcock , The New Nature of the Catastrophe (Tale of the Eternal Champion, #9)