Somewhere, somewhere back in the town,
I was a king had a fucking crown,
With cape and a cane,
Walking around in the heat of the fame,
Bubbles, bubbles from the fucking dam,
Popping around in the kingdom of Man.
With a hound and a wolf guarding my ass,
I picked the crown from the filthy trash,
Inane, insane, waging over the golden game,
Greener grass was muddy as a plain,
When the battle ended after the final trumpet,
There were no customers, I was the lonely strumpet.
It rained. I reigned. Over the broken kingdom,
As I walked down into the hurling conundrum,
My cane was the Flute and I was the Piper,
Every eye was swollen and every eye was a sniper.