| Princess Coldheart closed her eyes and waited for the kiss to snap her
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| Chain between her lips. |
| They waited proud; |
| they waited willing… filed
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| In, failed, and so she killed them.
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| Sitting on her cutglass throne for forty years, without a phone, without
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| A single word. |
| 100 thousand would-be suitors, dead because they couldn’t
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| Move her.
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| In the courtyard flowers bloomed; |
| they draped themselves 'round tombs
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| And rows of crosses… Pretty flowers bloomed; |
| they draped themselves
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| 'round tombs and rows of crosses.
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| Some were daring… tried the tricks they’d learned in France. |
| Some would
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| Touch her hand. |
| Money signs etched in their eyes. |
| She sensed it;
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| One-by-one they died.
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| Others chanted poems… even showered her with strange expensive gifts.
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| She wouldn’t read; |
| she owned the best. |
| She laid their flattery to Rest.
|
| In the courtyard flowers bloomed; |
| they draped themselves 'round tombs
|
| And rows of crosses… Pretty flowers bloomed; |
| they draped themselves
|
| 'round tombs and rows of crosses.
|
| Then, one October night, the humble village fool caught sight of Coldheart, and he fell. |
| He smashed a rock against her throne. |
| He Snatched her hand and took her home.
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| Happily they lived forever after. |
| He wears her chain upon his chest. |
| She
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| Even lets him kiss her breast.
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| In the courtyard flowers bloom; |
| they drape themselves 'round tombs and
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| Rows of crosses… In their garden flowers bloom; |
| they pick them,
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| Decorate their room. |
| It’s touching.
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| It’s touching, so touching. |
| It’s touching, so touching. |