The Conqueror Worm

Album cover art for "The Conqueror Worm" by Aurelio Voltaire

Aurelio Voltaire - Rock, Alternative Rock

The Conqueror Worm

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Duration: 4:19

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Lyrics

[Verse 1] Lo! 't is a gala night Within the lonesome latter years An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres [Verse 2] Mimes, in the form of God on high They mutter and mumble low And hither and thither fly Mere puppets they, who come and go At the bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro Flapping from out their Condor wings Invisible Wo [Verse 3] That motley drama—oh, be sure It shall not be forgot With its Phantom chased for evermore By a crowd that seize it not Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot And much of Madness, and more of Sin And Horror the soul of the plot [Verse 4] But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs The mimes become its food And seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued [Verse 5] Out—out are the lights—out all And, over each quivering form The curtain, a funeral pall Comes down with the rush of a storm While the angels, all pallid and wan Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero, the Conqueror Worm

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Credits

Writers
  • Edgar Allan Poe