I am you pauper, bring me a daisy,
and kiss these lackadaisical twilights
goodbye. Slip me a drink, I feel hazy.
Can you begrudge me these drunken bar fights?
Roses and ribbons that serve your hair well
feed me sugar-coated dispositions.
While we peasants hear no wedding bell
we are subject to sadder traditions.
Adorn me with this crown of all your laws,
and I shall forever live under you.
Build me a castle from all of your flaws,
to live and die beneath that rubble, too.
If only these clouds did not float so high
they could drown me, and I not say goodbye.