Deep in the sultry dark heart of the Vieux Carre,
There is an infamous house of horrid obscenity,
Its legacy of cruelty written in innocents' blood.
They say the ghosts of the defiled haunt its halls.
But far worse is the pale mistress with ebon hair,
Stalking the shadows, a whip in her delicate hand.
She is the high society devil of 1140 Rue Royale,
Vicious and wanton for pain ... Madame LaLaurie.

I, Madame LaLaurie, welcome you to my grand home.
Amongst its finery and frills dreadful secrets do roam
By flickering candle to the attic shall you and I retire.
Don't mind those foul rumors - or the fouler odour ...

Marie Delphine LaLaurie: Creole Lady. Doctor's Wife.
But behind her manners and charm does a monster lurk.
Because of a cook's fire were her atrocities unveiled.
Hidden in the black attic, a revolting gallery of torture.
Ghastly mutilation ... Grotesque humiliation ...
Black nightmares begotten of grisly experimentation!
For those crimes the appalled mob called for her to hang,
But the noose did she escape, to where no one knows

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