Phantom, Phantom
hear his cry,
He sings by day and hunts by night,
Forever hidden in the shadows
by fate so cruel.
The faceless ghost haunts the stage,
Releasing his rage
At those who do not obey.
Hear his lasso,
Whom is feared by all,
Can kill a man with one final blow.
Beware the forest,
The forest of death,
Once you go in
You never return.
His siren song lulls you in a dream
That you can not leave.
He gives no mercy,
No compassion at all,
He is the Phantom,
The master of art
And death.
...
Erik, Erik
Hear his cry,
He slaves by day and weeps by night,
Forever bound to a cold
Lifeless mask.
A skull faced man,
With skin so pale,
Lives only with seclusion and sorrow.
His music is alluring,
Pure genius I express
Though no one cares enough to imply.
Thou is deemed a monster,
A child from Hell.
Love is a mystery
To this man in black,
He knows not of affection or of delight
All he was given was a face full of fright.
He yearns for companions, a love of some sort,
Only to be replaced by hateful retort.
This Phantom, they call him, awaits eagerly for death,
Praying to a god he resents
So his life could end rapidly.
He curses his birth and people around,
Only to wish that his love would be found.
He is Erik,
The master of art
and death.