I wanted to rage against contrivance, warn of politicians
Tax collectors, tyrants young and old, richer or poorer
They say I'm a genius when I arrive at the village
Travelled and well-learned; all I cared about was axiology
But nothing truly mattered
Until I beheld her face
I'd heard the Sleeping Beauty myth, the Little Briar Rose maiden
How could I have known her resting place was in this village
That folklore was reality? I was the genius
Never a prince, only caring about philosophy
But none of that mattered
After I beheld her face
They led me to her shrine, Aurora shining in the dead of night
They mourned her loss, wept for Malefecent's curse because
Brides wanted to look good in reflection. I was the philosopher
Never the man of faith, only caring about a worthy aesthetic
But that no longer mattered
When I beheld her face
It was always happily ever after,
Move onward, find another purpose
But in this village I know why I'm here
Feet guided to tell how she's his Bride
Skylit even during nightfall
How despite their laughter I must say
Go away; for the girl is not dead but sleeping
Because this is all that matters
When one beholds her face
I never had a chance to kiss
But she awakens with a beauty disarming
My every defense