King
"We argue in the kitchen about whether to have children
About the world ending and the scale of my ambition
And how much is art really worth?
The very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most
But you need your rotten heart, your dazzling pain like diamond rings
You need to go to war to find material to sing
I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

I need my golden crown of sorrow, my bloody sword to swing
My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology
I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king"