Yell it from the rooftop
Sell it from the throne
Tell it to your kinfolk or let 'em all alone
You can only be king
If you can sing a song
For the sake of the paper trail
The blood money's printed on
The royal family is hiding in the dungeon and they're trapped
Cuz they got nobody on the outside to pay the ransom
Cops and the judges skipped down to go dancing
And the rest of their court has got more gumption than grey matter
Oxen are dead, peasants apathetic
In what's gotta be billed as a strange change of direction
Skip the election, let's hang a successor now
And let his chain sag lower than the motives of the crowd
Redraw the borders in order to keep the order
Like nobody heard the king whisper his will into his daughter's ear
Years pass by before she gets an apology
That's stiffer than a board but lighter than ideology
Yell it from the rooftop
Sell it from the presidential residence
And let the effigest go up in smoke with the idol
Let 'em all burn in the fire
Do a dance in the aftermath of ash from the fire
Like you heard it from the soothsayer
Spit it from the spire
Tell it to your first born
Or let 'em all retire
You can only be king
If you can sing a song for the sake of the paper trail
The blood money's printed on
The crown is crooked on the head of the inhabited
Of one's man kingdom is another man's extravagant puzzle
It's something kinda wonderful, isn't it?
That the struggle is sinning and all the sinning is lovable
Once you split it
Open ' here's to hoping the answer isn't fuck it all
Walk across a crossfire of bullet trying to duck 'em all
Tuck all your aspirations in your shoes before you lace 'em
When your souls start decaying' they're your last saving grace
And it's safe ' atop this mixture of invincible and silly
And spilling into confidence inherently more scary
So marry the pomp and circumstantial evidence
That let you set the precedent for winning a battle
That hasn't happened yet
Yell it from the rooftop
Sell it from the throne
Tell it to your kinfolk or let 'em all alone
You can only be king
If you can sing a song
For the sake of the paper trail
The blood money's printed on