You know I was always there,
You know my face, yeah.
And all the nights to enjoy,
And built small stories,
Exists for us to give death
Something when it reads
Colourful enough to permit
Its tears for me.
And it will take me,
But at least crying.
“There are just too many notes”
Said your majesty,
“You just need to cut a few,
And will be perfect to me.
Don’t take it too hard,
You know that I’m right."
Raising his chest forward, said:
"Which few did you have in mind, sire?"
Know what they’re thinking.
Our hands are closed.
Covered with passion and fury,
They will choke in their wisdom.