Princess Coldheart closed her eyes and waited for the kiss to snap her
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chain between her lips. They waited proud; they waited willing...filed
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in, failed, and so she killed them.
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Sitting on her cutglass throne for forty years, without a phone, without
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a single word. 100 thousand would-be suitors, dead because they couldn't
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move her.
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In the courtyard flowers bloomed; they draped themselves 'round tombs
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and rows of crosses.... Pretty flowers bloomed; they draped themselves
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'round tombs and rows of crosses.
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Some were daring...tried the tricks they'd learned in France. Some would
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touch her hand. Money signs etched in their eyes. She sensed it;
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one-by-one they died.
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Others chanted poems...even showered her with strange expensive gifts.
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She wouldn't read; she owned the best. She laid their flattery to
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rest.
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In the courtyard flowers bloomed; they draped themselves 'round tombs
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and rows of crosses.... Pretty flowers bloomed; they draped themselves
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'round tombs and rows of crosses.
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Then, one October night, the humble village fool caught sight of
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Coldheart, and he fell. He smashed a rock against her throne. He
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snatched her hand and took her home.
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Happily they lived forever after. He wears her chain upon his chest. She
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even lets him kiss her breast.
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In the courtyard flowers bloom; they drape themselves 'round tombs and
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rows of crosses.... In their garden flowers bloom; they pick them,
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decorate their room. It's touching.
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It's touching, so touching. It's touching, so touching.
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Princess Coldheart
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The Legendary Pink Dots |