I wonder how many golden girls you have lured under your covers.
They probably perceived it as being invited to a royal ball.

I wonder how many whimsical women have been honored to share sheets:
to swap saliva with their majesty. You've danced with all of the town, still every one felt privileged to
have been with you.

How do you expect me to feel like one in a million,
when you've convinced a kingdom of shes'
believe they were your queen?

I wonder
if you wonder
if you are my king.