The thrill of being sad,
after a hot moment,
that's exquisite, that's
for the kings of this world.

And the thrill of being sad,
that's for a hot meal to enjoy
a golf-hole, in public with his
snouted friends.

But the shivers and shakes of
being sad, well son, that's for a princess
crying pinkly in a stairwell.
Deafening the town-world
with her fertile, ragged screams.