There are some who are born distinguished
There are some who are raised in praise
But me I was always the last in line
A blot in my father’s gaze
No cheekbones chiselled on a feline face
No skill or savvy with a sword
But this game we all play is won in wily ways
And sly is this littlest lord
Cruel tricks of romance
Degraded by their spite
You snub your cub too many times
You just might feel his bite...
Beware, beware of the words I twist
I am small but my reach is long
And the ravens black against the winter’s mist
Are whispering the half-man’s song
They're whispering the half man's song...
The land is a blooming orchard
With fruits so juicy and ripe
With a clink of a coin loose the lion’s loin
Play a tune on the half man’s pipe
There are some who are raised in praise
But me I was always the last in line
A blot in my father’s gaze
No cheekbones chiselled on a feline face
No skill or savvy with a sword
But this game we all play is won in wily ways
And sly is this littlest lord
Cruel tricks of romance
Degraded by their spite
You snub your cub too many times
You just might feel his bite...
Beware, beware of the words I twist
I am small but my reach is long
And the ravens black against the winter’s mist
Are whispering the half-man’s song
They're whispering the half man's song...
The land is a blooming orchard
With fruits so juicy and ripe
With a clink of a coin loose the lion’s loin
Play a tune on the half man’s pipe
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!