Love is for kings and noblemen
and I'm no king
here in my castle of shit
onlookers taunt
as I stand upon my podium of pain
no rest for the wicked
no affection for the ill tempered
those horrible dreams
these half drunken bottles of wine at my bedside
remorse in the night
waking up in regret
so I rest my head on invisible shoulders
reaching out to thine downtrodden fellowship
the screams never reaching my lips
the agony deep in my belly and submerged in my back
a cross look always warning those whom pass by
that unhappiness lurks
Love is for kings
and I'm no king
so in my cold dampened hut
I wait for nothing
