The Prince Has Fallen by Prince Edward's Band

Prince Andrew sat on a wall of brittle gold and bone, Prince Andrew, in velvet rot, claimed the throne as his alone— A porcelain smile cracked with sweat that never came, Dancing slow with shadows sweet, whispering forgotten names. Oh, Prince Andrew had a great fall, a plunge through crystal night, Shattering like stained-glass saints beneath the Epstein light; The little girls in summer frocks, their laughter turned to dust, Now echo in the marrow-deep where royal blood must rust.

(Solo)

All the King’s horses, black and blind, with bridles forged of lies, All the King’s men in tailored suits, with lawyers’ silver knives— They stitched and spun and swore and sweated, in the flickering TV glare, But the pieces would not knit again; the soul was never there. Prince Andrew lies in pieces now, a dirge in minor key, A puppet with its strings cut clean, adrift on memory’s sea. No crown can mend the hollow chest, no press can bleach the stain— Only the wind through Buckingham sighs his sickly, sweet refrain: Prince Andrew… Prince Andrew… All the king’s men… failed again.

(Solo)