Do I remind you of your mother
As they drag me from my tower room
Even if you're sick of shadows
At least they don't tire of you
In the end we're all the same
Victims of the knights of faith
Still chattel even in a crown
As children when we used to play
Before the traitors fell from grace
I used to wear those kinds of gowns
On the bluffs above the sea
I almost had the urge to flee
Now that I've seen the future
I dream at night of guillotines
I see the way your eyes despair
There will never be an heir
No power ebbs from you
The Gray ladies with their eye
Watching queens in moonlight
They know this much is true
Do I remind you of your mother
As they drag me from my tower room
Even if you're sick of shadows
At least they don't tire of you