|
The swans begin to bellow |
|
Bellies full of pearls |
|
Screaming down the houses |
|
Whilst the willows start to fool |
|
Bow their boughs and buckle |
|
The curtains they are drawn |
|
The cavalcade and symmetry |
|
Commands for those to move |
|
The mutiny procession |
|
Somber and serene |
|
A pageant on behalf to show |
|
Her majesty's esteem |
|
The lake is turning darker |
|
It's as black as ostrich plumes |
|
Though I paraded answers |
|
With a noble magnitude |
|
Nail down the mirrors |
|
Pour the wars in the rooms |
|
The hands of the grandfathers |
|
Have settled on high noon |
|
We are the ire |
|
We are the ire |
|
We are the ire |
|
Here come the ire |
