
When the last
Of the visitors
Leave
The Party
Really starts
The ghosts from
The relics
Of Yesteryear
Dance by the
Rhythm of their
Hearts
Standing guard
Every night are
Two who never miss a thing
One was an upstart who tried his best
To replace his then High King
The other, much to his dismay,
Is the king him Very Self
And every night they stand side by side upon a museum shelf
Mummified, unable to move, nor sing, nor blink, nor dance
They merely have to sit and watch, as though they’re in a trance
Trapped and wrapped and strapped
But desperate to be free
Not for revenge or repercussion
But to join the others
…And parteee!
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