This is a drunken fairy tale, a broken, twisted story.

You wouldn't tell it to your kids, it's too disturbed and gory.

The threads have gotten tangled—wizard orphan, bastard prince—

The moral wandered off somewhere. We haven't seen it since.

The dark-eyed mother comes in twice: once prisoner, once free.

She never got to hold you, but she used to sing to me.

The one who sowed the whirlwind didn't stick around to reap it,

And both of us found true love, but the wrong one got to keep it.

I can't tell which of us was lost and which one did the finding:

So many demons, yours and mine, I sometimes need reminding.

It ended on an empty night, when all the stars went home,

And all of us were busy, so you had to die alone.

There was a human sacrifice (the monsters didn't do it);

There was a damsel in distress (I hope she slept right through it);

There was a band of heroes (some of us were monsters too);

There was a wizard and a fool, and both of them were you.

You left a holy family with one more mouth to feed,

An empty grave in Graceland that I'd hoped you'd never need;

In Winter there's a Mantle, but there's no one there to wear it;

Some of us held a wake for you; some of us couldn't bear it.

This was a drunken fairy tale, an incoherent jumble.

In dark and bloody anarchy the city starts to crumble.

Chicago needs a miracle, and none of us can be it;

I guess you were the lucky one: you didn't live to see it.