10:48a |
The king wakes up every morning The castle of sand still holds. If you look through the white of the lies in his eyes, He doesn’t want to be told.
He’s still attended by squires, The knights raise saluting hands, But the castle’s walls and towers and spires Are made of nothing but sand.
He looks at the rising ocean He looks at the setting sun And tastes the bitter potion Of all the years gone. |