Runs to the mirror
The bruises inflicted in moments of fury
He kneels beside her once more
Whispers a promise
“Next time I’ll break every bone in your body”
And the well-wishers let the devil in
And if the river ran dry they’d deny it happening
As the cardplayers deal their hands
From the bottom of the deck
Row upon row of feudal houses blow away
Medicine for the popular complaint
When the poets dreamed of angels
What did they see
History lined up in a flash at their backs
When the poets dreamed of angels
What did they see
The bishops and knights well placed to attack
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