It’s been said that I Am a King of tragic commands
And the words I supply
Spat out like mouthfuls of sand, but…
This thing that makes itself unknown
Coronated on its own
Feels like a crown made of concrete
Somehow I’ve got to kick it down the street
It’s been said that I Am a King of sorrowful lands
And all the clouds verify
There is a threatening plan, but…
This thing that makes itself unknown
Coronated on its own
Feels like a crown made of concrete
Somehow I’ve got to kick it down the street
I don’t know what it’s going to take
To try and make a break from this headspace
And I don’t know if there’ll be a grand escape
Try to get away there’ll be no flying away, but…
This King abdicates his throne
He doesn’t want to be alone
He wants dance out in the street
He wants to just dance out in the street.