The lillies gave the game away
She's so sad, and I know not why,
She lives in a fairy tale from old times
She think in rhymes, is trapped by chains,
Obsessed, like a bird in her nest 
She can't get it out of her mind.
The air is cool here and the moon is up 
And the river flows calmly;
Like it does in books and fairy tales.
And in stories of speaking whales.
Nothing much sparkles round here these days:
Empty beer cans, dumped rubbish, dead bodies
The lot. 
In the morning light see the sheen of oil on water,
Smell the putrefaction on what used to be called the riverbank.
Where the most beautiful virgin is seated
Wonderfully attired, worshipped and rescued by knights 
She was returned safely to the secure unit. 
Her golden jewelry flashing in the twinkling air. 
She combs her golden hair with a golden comb.
She is now locked up. Naked and alone. 
She sings a song with a sad refrain:
Aint never coming here again.

In the morning she is seized with a wild woe
Throws everything everywhere, wont let go.
She's hanging over a rocky reef
As she silently brushes her teeth
A warder looks on.
Time devours the princess and the antidote
It's a razor blade does for her delicate throat.