The Phantom - Blitzkrieg

His greatest work, his Opera, his heart and soul

Was stolen by, the one he thought, would cast the role

Insane with hate and anger, burned the Print-Shop to the ground

Badly burned, he fled to safety, hidden deep below the ground

Searching for The Phantom, Ghost-like in the hall

Waiting for The Phantom, to arrive at the curtain call

His music played, that haunting sound, had reached his ears

Angelic voice, she sang his words, so he drew near

He watched her as she faltered, he vowed he’d put that right

The Phantom of the Opera, filled them all with dread that night

Searching for The Phantom, Ghost-like in the hall

Waiting for The Phantom, to arrive at the curtain call

He made her sing, without a rest, in fear and Hell

Until she sang so perfectly, he’d taught her well

He watched her whole performance, full of pride he turned to go

He slipped and fell in silence, down to the stage below

Lifeless, lies The Phantom

Lying there, after the fall

Gazing at The Phantom

A broken man, not a ghost at all