pauper

the pauper presents himself
not a worry in the world
the king laughs to himself
the pauper turns his hair into a curl

obey me, the king demands
the pauper freely ignores
you will not take my hands
out of fear of modern chores

crying to the world at large
the pauper sings to himself as he walks to the store
the king is the one who is in charge
he melts all those who sit at the core

who will then make the people laugh
the ones who the king most needs
the playwright, the critic
the one on the stage

walking around town
leather bound
secular, sexual hunger pangs
a kingdom born under leather pants

the pauper finds brothers
to take down the king
they fight with their words
the drinks are all free

Hello, I love you
the pauper's band does play
at twenty seven years old
he covers up the pain

naked in the sink
with no stone to throw
a lady to his bedside
hears nothing of his pain

the king hears it
the song in his head
the soft parade has now begun
the king fails to hold the pauper for what he has done

up to his ankles in despair
the king begs the lady to save him fair
she looks at the lizard king
with a needle in hand

she falls down naked
the king is never dead