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The soldier came knocking upon the queen's door |
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He said, "I am not fighting for you any more" |
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And the queen knew she'd seen his face someplace before |
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And slowly she let him inside |
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He said, "I've watched your palace up here on the hill |
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And I've wondered who's the woman for whom we all kill |
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But I am leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will |
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Only first I am asking you why" |
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Down the long narrow hall he was led |
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Into her rooms with her tapestries red |
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And she never once took the crown from her head |
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She asked him there to sit down |
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He said, "I see you now and you are so very young |
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But I've seen more battles lost than I have battles won |
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And I've got this intuition, says it's all for your fun |
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And now will you tell me why?" |
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Well, the young queen, she fixed him with an arrogant eye |
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She said, "You won't understand and you may as well not try" |
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But her face was a child's and he thought she would cry |
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But she closed herself up like a fan |
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And she said, "I've swallowed a secret burning thread |
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It cuts me inside and often I've bled" |
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And he laid his hand then on top of her head |
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And he bowed her down to the ground |
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"And tell me how hungry are you? How weak you must feel |
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As you are living here alone and you are never revealed |
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But I won't march again on your battlefield" |
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And he took her to the window to see |
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And the sun, it was gold though the sky, it was gray |
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And she wanted more than she ever could say |
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But she knew how it frightened her and she turned away |
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And would not look at his face again |
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And he said, "I want to live as an honest man |
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To get all I deserve and to give all I can |
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And to love a young woman who I don't understand |
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Your highness, your ways are very strange" |
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But the crown, it had fallen and she thought she would break |
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And she stood there ashamed of the way her heart ached |
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And she took him to the doorstep and she asked him to wait |
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She would only be a moment inside |
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Out in the distance her order was heard |
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And the soldier was killed, still waiting for her word |
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And while the queen went on strangling |
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In the solitude she preferred, the battle continued on |
