The son of a King is a Prince and a Queen shall be called the woman whom the King takes for his bride. 

Yet the common man hears the call and fights on through it all, to change the world with no royal blood inside

The beautiful woman shall make men lust inspire sonnets and busts and drive men wild

Yet tis the woman called plain who wipes the tears like rain and makes the children smile

Locks burned fried dyed and conked cowered retired and punked good hair do I dare join the fight

Coarse mane dread I die in this struggle fight on must I fore I know the goal is right 

Sacrifice I spurn sex money and power I earn pleasure soon come me and I alone I love

My people I cherish fit for the fight lest we perish, strength I desire before I expire to honor the creator above