I was a prince when you met me--
A dreary empire stretching far as I could see.
Now I find myself a stranger in my home. (The one I built with my bare hands.)
Living for your look, I'm common, and I'm error-prone.
I'm bringing this to term--
Making the good men squirm.
Harder and faster and firm,
I'm bringing this to term.
I think that on your bedroom shelves (Among the ivy, rocks and weeds)
There's room for only those who look out for themselves.
I know all about the type who call a lot (And they're all talk and harmless deeds),
Who're insignificant in every way I'm not.
I fought so hard in the dark.
I don't have what it takes for that spark.
There's no incentive to behave--
Not if this is all there is.
No one good reason to be brave,
When I see your hand in his.
How much is left of me to save?
Depends what parts you miss.
I built a lock that works too well. (It will not yield for wolf or lamb.)
I keep your secret that they all want me to tell.
The water is wide, but I’ll cross o’er. (It’s not as angry as I am.)
My true love waits and waits and waits on yonder shore.
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