Old Queens Head
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There's a bar at rumour road
A dormitory of deeds that interest me
And one such as he or she who feeds of
the floor, the fruits are bitter sweet
They were good enough to eat for (?)
So they should be good enough to eat for me
And the (?) of this place is my old queen
And she eats these fruits exclusively
But they're merciless to the angels
The royal blooded, sweet of heart
And my queen is all free of these
The patriots of class
And the cynics they all raise a toast
To the broken and the dead
And the romantic simplifies the most
With the old queens head
I've stumbled drunk enough times
from this room to home, with many wounds
To know that nothing mean more than
the force of faith beneath the moon
But I'm a romantic who has never had romance
A lover who's never had love's dance
Next to the royalty who is skewer than a lance
The optimist temps me to take a chance
But they're merciless to the angels
The royal blooded, sweet of heart
And my queen is all free of these
The patriots of class
And the cynics they all raise a glass
To the broken and the dead
And the romantic simplifies the most
With the old queens head