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Blinded

de Falconer

Your wealth and your power
Both increase with every day
Theory versus practice
As the mould spreads it's way

Ravens fill the sky
Wolves start to cry
And you shield your eyes

Behold the throne of satin
Far from where no hope is left
No royal tidings reach it
It's like talking to the deaf

Blinded by gold are the knights
In spite of all the blinders you can wear
The rotten stench will still be there

The castle of your glory
Embellished under your reign
The next throne possessor
Must pawn his crown for your vain

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