(Beat: Heavy, ominous cathedral organs layering over a slow, booming, distorted 808 trap beat. Rain falls in the background, mixed with the faint sound of church bells.) (Verse 1) In the shadow of the spires, where the holy waters flow Sits the master of the ashes, the immaculate Frollo A magistrate of malice wrapped in pure silk robes He cleanses the corrupt while he sets the world aglow He locked away a baby born with bones grown wrong Left him bleeding in a belfry where the gargoyles belong Turned a mother to a corpse on the steps of the shrine And he called it holy justice, called it mercy divine He’s a savior in his mind, got a covenant with God With a genocidal fever and a iron-plated rod Wiping Romani blood from the cobblestone floor Burning families in their houses, locking up the front door He’s the darkest of the dark because he thinks his hands are clean The most righteous executioner the world has ever seen. (Chorus) But the shadows hold a secret that the holy books erase Behind the iron mask, there’s a completely different face A monster in the daylight, a tyrant on the throne But weeping in the dark where he’s utterly alone The judge is passing sentences, the fires burning high But hidden in the dark... he just wants to paint the sky. (Verse 2) Deep inside the catacombs, away from prying eyes Past the torture racks and dungeons where the heretic dies In a chest beneath the floorboards, hidden out of sight Lie the colors of the spectrum that he suppresses with might The cold, ruthless judge, with his soul made of stone Had a secret little passion that he nurtured alone With some chalk and some parchment in the dead of the night He would draw vivid rainbows by a single candle's light Every shade, every arc, every blend, every line A beautiful obsession, innocent and sublime The genocidal tyrant who would watch the city gleam Was a broken little boy with a technicolor dream But a shadow in the rafters saw the chalk in his hand The deformed little child that the minister had banned. (Chorus) Because the shadows hold a secret that the holy books erase Behind the iron mask, there’s a completely different face A monster in the daylight, a tyrant on the throne But weeping in the dark where he’s utterly alone The judge is passing sentences, the fires burning high But hidden in the dark... he just wants to paint the sky. (Verse 3) Quasimodo saw the colors from the shadows up above Saw the tyrant's only weakness, saw his secret little love And the boy grew tired of the chains and the cage Tired of the beatings and the minister's rage He cornered the master in the hall of the law Said, "I know what you do, I know what I saw." He demanded his freedom, demanded a place To walk among the people without hiding his face "Give me favors, Judge Claude, grant me what I desire Or I’ll scream out your secret to the ultimate choir I’ll climb up the steps where the great bell swings And I’ll shout to the world what the magistrate brings! From the highest bell tower, they will hear your disgrace: The butcher of Paris paints rainbows in his space!" (Outro) Frollo stood frozen. The color drained white. A crack in the armor of the champion of right. To be exposed as a fraud? As a soft, painting man? The reputation of the judge was the spine of his plan. He couldn't let it happen. Couldn't let the bell ring. So he called for his guards, did a terrible thing. Whispered low in the dark, cold breath on the steel: "Put a hit on the hunchback. Let him know how I feel. Silence the bells. Put a blade through his chest." Just a righteous man's duty... to lay it to rest. (The beat slows down to a solitary, heavy organ chord. The sound of chalk scraping on paper echoes, followed by a sudden, sharp slice of a blade.) (Frollo's voice whispers): Lord, have mercy on my soul.
