Conquistador your stallion stands in need of company
and like some angel's haloed brow
you reek of purity
i see your armor plated breast
has long since lost its sheen
and in your death mask face
there are no signs which can be seen
and though i hoped for something to find
i could see no place to unwind
conquistador a vulture sits, upon your silver sheath
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
and though i hoped for something to find
i could see no place 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
though you came with sword held high
you did not conquer, only die
and though i hoped for something to find
i could see no place to unwind
and though i hoped for something to find
i could see no place to unwind