The taste of you still lingers on my lips,
Whiskey and honey all wrapped in one, so sweet,
I couldn’t taste the poison lurking beneath those sinful lips and that talented tongue.
But, oh, these wine stained lips were always popular among mistresses,
And the apothecary has a talent for bringing back the dead,
So kiss me while I’m sill naked and begging, my crown scattered,
Wanting you to climb inside and taint the very essence of me.
The high class always did need to go out with a bang.
Poison never tasted as sweet than when you’ve licked if off a forbidden fruit.
While the moon is high and the sun hides behind a lustful gaze,
Let us fornicate among these proclaimed royals,
Where the jokers and court jesters blush as they peak through their fingers,
Licking their lips at the taste of all the kisses the French court has to offer,
And the King fucks maids, grabbing any warm body that comes their way,
The Queen can only get off when two knights praise her body,
Making love to all the many royal advisors and attendants she has,
But don’t let the King know that ill-kept secret.
So, come my sleeping princess, prick yourself on more than a wooden spindle,
And watch your blood flow from more than that delicate finger,
For the royal life cannot be all parties and sex and fine dining,
There must be pain and heartbreak so delicious it makes your toes curl,
Bend over; lift those skirts, and expose that shame you hide,
Red from more than the flush descending beneath your neckline,
And let yourself get lost in the anticipation of a royal affair,
Here, there is always more to late night balls than a pretty face and sultry gowns,
All you have to do is open the wooden doors that lead to the chambers
And let yourself be swept away by a magic to dirty to appear anytime before midnight.