some new prog rock! its bad

Spell of a conjurer
Surrounds this man in fine silk
Robes trailing down the stairs
Should he turn around he'd
Slip and fall, break his jaw, looking at the tip top

There he stood far away

There the alchemy's right
And never been a fight
Never been a curse
Never been a lie
Never been a hearse to ride in

(Give me a swig of that elixir! Yes.. YES)

O great necromancer
I need some sense of relief
Mercy's not the answer
The way must be unveiled anew by fire

O great necromancer
I need some relief
(Burn a bigger flame)

You bastard necromancer
You stole from me my friends
Give em back to me

Oh my god
We're dying far too soon
Burn a bigger flame

Oh my god

The closer he swore he was
The more his bandages failed the blaze
With a hand waving futile gusts
And a spare holding up his face

But the closer he came he saw it all
His face'll hit the floor, and his gun'll draw
Jolts of fire lightning bounce off the wall
The most fantastic hail of lights you had ever saw

Shattered in a million little pieces
A hall of mirrors in a million little pieces
There he stays

He stays