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Tonight is her night, and the city holds is breath, |
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Caught twixt life and death, as she rolls in from the suburbs, |
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The garrison flees and the city will burn. |
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Corinna rides like Boadicea tonight. |
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London town trembles at the sight. |
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Because tonight is her night. |
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And the youth course through the streets to lay down at her feet, |
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And she runs a regal eye to choose who lives and decide who dies. |
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Corinna rides like Boadicea tonight. |
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The fearful crowds part ways without a fight. |
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Corinna rides like Boadicea tonight. |
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London town trembles at the sight. |
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She keeps her counsel, smiles when she speaks now, from ear to ear. |
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She's getting married, or so they tell me, when the spring is here. |
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She hums a tune from a song she knows from warm summers past, |
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A song that was sung by kids around campfires in the quiet southwest. |
