Death of a King

A man's allowed to cry today... to put his feelings on display. No ridicule and no disgrace. We've lost a king, but not his face. And should I fall apart in public, it's allowed. No... it's demanded. Zoom in, see how small I am. I'm humble now but, I hope, big-hearted. Let me be confetti on my grave. And all the secrets kept within these walls are scattered on the wind. He's human now. He's clipped his wings. The king is dead. Long live the king! Black ribbons hang now from his portrait. Candles flicker as the day breaks. Still he mutters, still he shakes... we've lost a king, but not his face. Still we wait for wisdom at his grave.