I feel like this piece is another sort of ominous lullaby...
...
"I am a king!"
Oh pretty, pretty thing,
delicate and innocent;
one day you'll be a king.
The world will ride atop your shoulders,
and the weight of it all
will bring you to your knees
till they're scraped up and bleeding.
Oh pretty, pretty thing,
delicate and innocent;
who wants to be a king?
Kings rise, and kings fall,
take over kingdoms and then lose it all.
The world bends to them like a bow,
with which they hunt the monsters in the place,
but then it snaps back into their face
like a sapling bough.
All hail the king, long live the king;
but kingship is oft such a tenuous, strenuous thing.
Up at the top with nowhere to go except for down,
people only get close to kings for their crown.
So in the end, after all,
every might king will fall.