All the queen's verses
All the king's zen
Reconciled them
In bed @
Half past ten
The goldfish
Turned silver
The prince gave his xbox
To the pauper
Why No one knows
Not even
The little match girl
Who was led to the prince
The very same day
She thought it strange
In the palace
Holding hands
A prince
Wanting matches
What for
All the windproof torches
He might choose
The pauper was too busy
Blowing away the world
With an unharnessed fury
Twice the size of the sun
To indulge
Her whys
Her what fors
He just wants to see you
He likes little whores
Now die! Die! die! Die!
You scum! por favor
Although she enjoyed
Her walk through the palace
She never once minded
The prince's entreaties
She hid behind the couch
In the paupers motel room
While he indulged all his fantasy
Of anarchy and mayhem
The endless rapping upon the door
Went unanswered
And the prince's heart
Knew first heartbreak
Our little match girl she
Got big
In her own palatial
Revery
Not just on that day but
Every
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