YONDER WRETCH
“Yonder Wretch” tells the story of a cursed musician riding from town to town, playing songs for strangers who cheer without realizing they’re witnessing a soul in agony. He’s sold his soul for talent, fame, and success... Each performances is beautiful on the outside, but every note is a plea for help that no one hears.
CREDITS
All Music & Lyrics Written By: Rob Voltaire
Mixed & Mastered By: Miami Dolphin
Produced By: Rob Voltaire & Miami Dolphin
All Music Performed By: Rob Voltaire
All Vocals Performed By: Rob Voltaire & Drogoth (Adam McCarthy)
Vocals Recorded By: Greg Foeller @ Stagg Street Studios
All Music Recorded By: Rob Voltaire @ Voltaire Studios
Edited By: Rob Voltaire
Additional Orchestral Engineering By: Edd Jiménez @ BRAINBLAST
Executive Producer: Einar Solberg @ LEPROUS
Artwork By: Samantha Thorn
LYRICS
[VERSE 1]
Walk along that dusty road where shadows fall and winds bode ill
A lone rider, heart so cold, cometh forth with iron will
Steed black as raven's wings, eyes red as burning coals
Onward rides the darkened king where righteous men would dare not go
[CHORUS]
Sing ye songs of yonder wretch, soul to devil he did sell
For silver coins and promises in depths of fiery hell
Dance oh dance 'neath moon so bright, where demons prance in eerie light
His fiddle plays the tune of night, oh cursed be his plight
[VERSE 2]
In tavern dim where ale flows free, playin' his sweet haunting tune
Gather round, come and see this rare and wondrous boon
Little know they of the price, songs that lure and sweet entice
Each note played, a soul's demise, the devil sure plays nice
[CHORUS]
Sing ye songs of yonder wretch, soul to devil he did sell
For silver coins and promises in depths of fiery hell
Dance oh dance 'neath moon so bright, where demons prance in eerie light
His fiddle plays the tune of night, oh cursed be his plight
[BRIDGE]
With crooked smile, the devil stands, his bargain shrewd and sly
The fiddler's fate in hellish hands beneath the starless sky
Little knows he of the price, songs that lure and sweet entice
Each note played, his own demise, the devil's little prize
Sing ye songs oh yonder wretch… Soul to devil you did sell…
Here's your coins and promises… Welcome to hell!
[CHORUS]
Sing ye songs of yonder wretch, soul to devil he did sell
For silver coins and promises in depths of fiery hell
Dance oh dance 'neath moon so bright, where demons prance in eerie light
His fiddle plays the tune of night, oh cursed be his plight
[OUTRO]
Sing your songs… Sell your soul…
Silver coins… Fiery hell…
Dance oh dance… Eerie light…
On you ride… Cursed be…
WHAT IS YONDER WRETCH ABOUT?
June 12, 2024. This was the first song I wrote after everything fell apart, and the beginning of my healing process.
“Yonder Wretch” tells the story of a cursed musician riding from town to town, playing songs for strangers who cheer without realizing they’re witnessing a soul in agony. He’s sold his soul for talent, fame, and success... Each performances is beautiful on the outside, but every note is a plea for help that no one hears.
At the time, I saw myself as this broken figure. People would often say my performances were powerful, but very few saw the pain underneath. I had given everything in chasing success in music, and when the bottom fell out, I felt like a monster exiled from everything I had built; discarded, misunderstood, and still performing because I didn’t know any other way to live.
This song was my way of processing all that… Back when I wrote this, I genuinely believed I was a wretch, cursed to continue suffering… I’m grateful I don’t feel that way anymore.
lINE BY LINE ANALYSIS
“Walk along that dusty road where shadows fall and winds bode ill”
The song opens with the feeling of wandering aimlessly after your life has collapsed. There’s a mixture of burnout and loneliness, and everything feels increasingly dangerous as you become more of an anxious mess.
“A lone rider, heart so cold, cometh forth with iron will”
You numb yourself in order to keep functioning. Refusing to quit or give up, you try to show everyone your strength - too stubborn to let anyone see you as weak, all while falling apart from the inside.
“Steed black as raven’s wings, eyes red as burning coals”
This shadow is a part of you - your eyes, indicative of the anger and exhaustion you feel.
“Onward rides the darkened king, where righteous men would dare not go”
You begin to feel tarnished, like someone fallen from grace. You can’t get back to where you once were, or what you once had, so you walk directly into hell, knowing it’s the only place that will accept someone as cursed, monstrous, and flawed as you.
“Sing ye songs of yonder wretch, soul to devil he did sell”
This is where the negative self-talk begins. You begin to realize you’ve sold yourself, your ethics, your morals, even your soul for that taste of success. Giving up everything that makes you who you are, just to please others and keep yourself alive.
“For silver coins and promises in depths of fiery hell”
The money… the opportunities… all empty promises amidst the hell that you, and everyone that loves you, have been through.
“Dance oh dance ‘neath moon so bright, where demons prance in eerie light”
You continue the dance - the light surrounding you now less like a spotlight, and more an eerie light in which your internalized demons begin to pick you apart.
“His fiddle plays the tune of night, oh cursed be his plight”
Your work is what brings about that darkness - it helps you survive, but it also keeps you chained to all your pain. The more you feed into the illusion of your persona, the more you lose sight of who you really are.
“In tavern dim where ale flows free, playing his sweet haunting tune”
You’ve set the stage for this sad and haunting tale. Numbing your pain however you can.
“Gather round, come and see this rare and wondrous boon”
People love seeing you perform. They always seem to see the talent, but not the torment… It’s an unsettling feeling of being praised, while feeling totally unseen.
“Little know they of the price, songs that lure and sweet entice”
Every gig, every job, every task comes with a price. The more you perform, the more you feed that darkness, and the more you lose sight of what’s really going on in your life.
“Each note played, a soul's demise… The devil sure plays nice”
The irony that your work, the thing keeping you pushing forward, is also your undoing… all amounting to someone saying “Great Job!” - then the cycle repeats…
“With crooked smile, the devil stands, his bargain shrewd and sly”
You begin to see your industry as the devil; a rotten deal with a shady agent that commodifies and feeds off of your hard work and vulnerability.
“The fiddler's fate in hellish hands beneath the starless sky”
Feeling trapped in this cycle, cursed and hopeless in the clutches of something that feels much bigger than you, with no guidance or light to show you the way…
“Little knows he of the price, songs that lure and sweet entice, each note played, his own demise, the devil’s little prize”
Then finally, you realize the price you’ve been paying… The more you do, the more of yourself you gave away, and all just to be some plaything for someone else’s benefit.
“Sing ye songs oh yonder wretch… Soul to devil you did sell… Here's your coins and promises… Welcome to hell!”
There’s no happy ending to this tale… you wanted this, and so here it is - the money, the success, the praise - welcome to the hell that you created for yourself….
“Sing your songs… Sell your soul… Silver coins… Fiery hell… Dance oh dance… Eerie light… On you ride… Cursed be…”
That’s when the voice of inner criticism and self judgment becomes the loudest… and all you’re left with is what you earned - an endless choir of guilt, shame, and self punishment as you fall in defeat…