My pillow is filled, on those long restless nights,
of Icarus down smelling of candle wax.
And all the things wrong in all the things right
like finding a straw in a tall needle stack.
Tell Odepus to aim for the lofty full moon.
When he does miss then the arrow will burn
In the fiery star heart turn from willow to fume.
What is destined for greatness is destined for doom.
Tell the tale of king Midas and the tale of Solomon.
Tell them of all the kings who were cursed with might.
Even Ozymandias sitting on his stone throne.
The title of king bears a price and a plight
Beware insincere waxen-faced success!
For success begets pride, and pride idleness,
and idleness hunger and hunger despair.
Success is quite fickle, so listener
beware!