| Conquistador your stallion stands
|
| In need of company
|
| And like some angel’s haloed brow
|
| You reek of purity
|
| I see your armour-plated breast
|
| Has long since lost its sheen
|
| And in your death mask face
|
| There are no signs which can be seen
|
| Though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind
|
| Conquistador a vulture sits
|
| Upon your silver shield
|
| And in your rusty scabbard now
|
| The sand has taken seed
|
| And though your jewel-encrusted blade
|
| Has not been plundered still
|
| The sea has washed across your face
|
| And taken of its fill
|
| Though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind
|
| Though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind
|
| Conquistador there is no time
|
| I must pay my respect
|
| And though I came to jeer at you
|
| I leave now with regret
|
| And as the gloom begins to fall
|
| I see there is no, only all
|
| And though you came with sword held high
|
| You did not conquer, only die
|
| Though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind
|
| Though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind
|
| And though I hoped for something to find
|
| I could see no maze to unwind |