“All the pictures of your mother. All the places that you know
All the lessons of your lovers and the things you never show
Even though you could be mistaking me for somebody else
All the roses you can send to me can sit on the shelf
Now my chain is feeling heavy on my neck (when I ride?)
But my heart is beating steady and I know it never lies.
Dead could, dead could start to feel and your eyes will start to flood.
If you know the kind of steel running in my royal blood.”