Dancing with Her
     Shimmering ballroom light
Holding Her hand
     Hoping She thinks She might
Frankenstein’s Bride
     Hauntingly lilting sway
Eyes loving eyes
     Dancing the night away

Quick cold Her lips
     Pressing upon my own
Somewhere my love
     Years of my life have flown
Tomorrow’s song
     Echoing from the past
Dear life so long
     Living it to the last

Tomorrow’s song
     Resting in peace my love
Dancing no more
     Dreaming the undreamed of
Somewhere my love
     Into that long good night
Tomorrow’s song        
      . . .

A bad King may spoil even the best of times  
We fable a good King’s aid in the dark ages

In our royal age of infinite information
We have royally forgotten the meaning of knowledge

In a sapphire dungeon of instant gratification
We have misplaced the majesty of pleasure

In this kingdom of self-indulgent ignorance
We have lost the nobility of wisdom

Can any subject ever again decree:
‘Tis better, The World, without a King.