Off with their heads,
out with their hearts,
let them bleed red
until they're dead.
Fear? I have none.
Tears? I have none.
Death? Yours is now.
Give me their money and tarts,
I collect in jars, their hearts.
Faces and bodies painfully contort,
they become all mort*.
The pretty eyes, I sort.
Unwanted babies of theirs, I abort.
If they fight, if they argue, if they retort,
I'll cut their heads off so they're short.
Off with their heads,
out with their hearts,
let them bleed red
until they're dead.
Let them be bred,
so I can happily see them dead
and them bleeding red:
this is what I say and said.
Don't keep calm,
panick in alarm.
You'll be disarmed,
no safety comes, only harm.
I'm pretty, I have charm
except I'm scary and I bring harm,
I've manicured hands at the end of my arms.
I love bringing harm.
This is my queenly evil hymn,
in my cup, blood's filled to the brim.
I'll trim your hair, at your neck, starts the trim.
Killing and torturing at my every whim.
Off with their heads,
out with their hearts,
let them bleed red
until they're dead.
I am an evil queen, the diabolical queen,
me and my deeds, I'll be seen,
life and death, I drink in my canteen,
I am absolutely mean.
Hate, hate, hate
I want to hand down as a trait,
evil I don't imitate,
I am it, it I create.
Off with their heads,
out with their hearts,
let them bleed red
until they're dead.
Let my hymn be sung,
everyone'll be hung.
Let my hymn be sung!
~
*mort is French for the word, 'dead'
