Octopus Project (The)
Queen
They're calling out moutains to singOur favorite song of kings and queensFlourescent sight, birds lapse in flightSaluting tone, noise floating foamVermillion skies, clouds made of teaWe ride upon their harmonyEvery cape and hood, gold suits the moodHis lips grew wings, hands reach for greenMansions full of wigs, hiding in her figsMilk and honey please, softly proceedOh little sphinx thats what you getIt's just the jinx of a dead brunetteLet's wrap ourselves with silver threadsAnd lay ourselves in golden bedsLet's eat the powder in the breadAnd soon again well be undeadThere's pointy caps all here and thereFigs are like cakes plucked from woven lairs
From Letras Mania