With a wave, a wave of dismay
I hired a poet, a guard, and a horse for the day
I, I’m building my throne
Of paper and stone
In my backyard
It’s my God-given right
This power’s an attempt to lie
My gold, my gold’s in a tower
And a paper crown upon my head
I’m lying in state
For my boy-king is dead
Long live my boy-king
Long live my boy-king
Long live my boy-king