They drag me down the old path,
Along with my screams and pleads,
For them to let me go, there is an old man sitting on the throne, he
Says I should keep my pretty mouth shut, they want to make me their Queen,
Energy is passing through me and leaving me
Drained, my bones shatter with every pull,
They got their Kingdom locked up, civilians Stand on my left and right, anger painted on
Their faces, they wish to rip me apart and feed Me to the wolves, I'm headed straight for the castle,
I'm choking on my pride, there's no use in crying About it, I cuss and beg them to spare my life, they Told me not to be so mean.
There is a Prince, he's handsome and young, inexperienced Too, "Who do you pray to?" he asked me one day,
He stood beside Me, while I kneeld and prayed to God, "Is anyone answering you?"
He has prayed to God and heard silence in return, he makes it clear
His life is all but a chaos he cannot escape, carrying heavy
Weight on his shoulders, his mind's empty and duties are unfulfilled,
He begs God to let him live for a little while longer, He says my bruised are kinda pretty,
My scars to me are a Reminder of the ugly past
I've driven to the back of my mind,
And I think his tired eyes are kind of nice, When I first met him,
There was a garden growing from the black hole in my mind.
