Treason, anyone?

March 4, 2018

 

For the past couple of years I've been exploring a love for narrative poetry. Story songs, concept albums, epics, riddles, hymns, and limericks. Not only do I enjoy consuming them, but I've found that they can be really helpful to write for relieving stress and exploring my emotions and thought processes through creative structure. 

 

Below you'll find my rendition of Rebel Dreams and Tyrant Kings, the song of a young man enamored with a violent, "Robin Hood-esque" vigilante and the dangerous freedom that she represents. 

 

Verse 1: 

This city needs new monarchy/ a king less fond of tyranny

A throne of gold rules every life/ from one long world away

Where are all the cynics,/the skeptics, pagans, and heretics?

Free minds willing to stand upright/ not bow down and kiss a ring

 

Prechorus 1:

Free? Can I be free? Free from a Crown’s so-called authority?

Free! Who can set me free? 

These desperate thoughts have plagued my mind/ Till I met freedom personified! 

 

Chorus 1: 

She had bright green eyes and blood under her fingernails/ A laugh so cruel it sounded like cathedral bells/ ringing to 

mock the Hangman’s slaves

Now I’m not one to kiss and tell/ though I have been known to slay a heart or two/

This time the casualties are all mine

 

Verse 2:

Her fatal face marks sheriff signs/ but robbing kings is no real crime

I’d give every last thing I own/ for my face right next to hers

 

Prechorus 2: 

Dreams! Dreams of release

She preached of free-man’s will applied/ I think they call that regicide!

 

Chorus 2: 

She had bright green eyes and blood all on her arrow tips/ A rage so pure, she sang of an apocalypse/ an ending to 

every law that's held us caged 

Now I’m not one to kiss and tell/ though I have been known to slay a heart or two/ This time I feel like I’ve died

 

Bridge: 

And every time I close my eyes/ a chorus of my demons rise/ and whisper in my ear a melody

They say “You don’t owe your heart to anything/ your thoughts, your laws are all that you need

Trust in your heart, your mind, and your body/ don’t hail, don’t serve the tyrant king

Trust in those rebel dreams

 

Chorus 3: 

She had bright green eyes and blood under her fingernails/ A laugh so cruel it sounded like cathedral bells/ ringing to 

mock the Hangman’s slaves

Now I’m not one to kiss and tell/ But I shared a kiss that broke my soul in two/ And this time I feel alive…for the first time I feel alive. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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