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#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
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From: dfrench@site.gmu.edu (Douglas French (ECE 535))
Subject: Re: REQ:Conquistador (???)
The song is "Conquistador" by Procol Harum. The album, "Procol Harum"
was originally issued (on vinyl) about 1964-65 on the DERAM label
(DES 18008) and was distributed by London Records. It was reissued
later by A&M Records retitled "A Whiter Shade of Pale" (SP4373). The
songs were rearranged on the reissue and one additional song was
included. The sound quality of the reissue suffered slightly probably
due to the degradation of the master tapes with time. BTW, the
original recording was "electronically re-processed" for stereo.
There was a re-reissue on CD a few years back. I can't comment on
it's quality.
You probably heard the re-reissue if there were horns in the arrangement.
Too bad, if so. The original issue "Conquistador" was a much tighter
arrangement (no horns, just tight kick-butt studio work). As a matter
of fact the entire album (first issue, black & white artwork cover)
was tight and tasty. Special kudos to Mathew Fisher's B3 Hammond organ
(the honest-to-gawd halejulia-get-down one-ton beast) work and Robin
Trower's absolutely scarey guitar licks.
But I digress...
Am D
Conquistador, your stallion stands
G G7
In need of company
Am D
And like some angel's halo'ed brow
G G7
You reak of purity.
A Dm
I see your armor plated breast
G Am
Has long since lost it's sheen
A Dm
And in your deathmask face
G Am
There are no signs which can be seen.
Am F
And though I hope for something to find
Am F
I can see no place to unwind.
Conquistador your vulture sits
Upon your silver sheet
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 it's fill.
And though I hope for something to find
I can see no place to unwind.
Conquistador there is no time
I must pay my respect
And though I came to cheer 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 hope for something to find
I can see no place to unwind.
...repeat...
Hope this helps.
dfrench@site.gmu.edu
