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Beneath all your desires, |
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Sleeps a three-horned dragon king. |
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Within a cage of passion you will find him, |
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Wearing midnight, breathing fire |
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Taking life from a tarnished ring. |
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And the ropes of love you thought would bind him. |
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Are lying broke, making patterns |
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In the dust of the bedroom floor, |
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And the nights are quickly growing longer |
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While you bargain with tradition, |
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Setting sail for a different shore, |
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And you wish to God that you were stronger. |
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The Black Queen, Indecision, |
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Rips your conscience with her sword, |
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While the walls of circumstance around you |
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Are getting higher by the minute |
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And you're inside getting bored, |
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Will the vows of long-ago confound you? |
