Once upon a time, lived a prince
on his left hand is words of wisdom
and another is a chip of puzzle in pride
with his sword of blues, deep it is strong
he is brave, he is wicked,
he is smart, he is trouble,
but sadly there are untold nightmare
it is buried in the lungs and throat
All the peasants hail on his knees
praise his head and adore his will
but someday they curse and jail him
in a misery, with thorny chains and blood
He said all things will be okay
He conveys everything is on handle
Nevertheless he falls in back-stabbed tragedy
His soul was crying and his body was bleeding
Traitors! Traitors! The sinful beings!
He screams until he gets frail
Until everyone laughs and throws the spit
Even the skies know, he can't be helped
So I witness all those images
In the future with canvas of prediction
Those prides abandons that corpse
Fatal! Fatal! But he ignored the words
The book of story will be closed, forever
In the name of the fallen prince
Even the sword never be found
In the end, regret...... regret....... regret....
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