The most beautiful lake in all the land,
the Lake of Thought its name,
the two lovers, lovers yet to be
met there a faithful day.
One, a baker girl, knowing little of the world
one, a prison's warden, knowing little of faith or care
they met by the most beautiful lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
They knew not of eachother's jobs,
not as if they cared.
A promise they made, to eachother,
lovers in the fullest,
the baker girl was to never break,
the tiniest of laws.
The prison's warden was to never hurt,
the most terrible of his prisoners,
Promises made, by the most beautiful lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
The prison's warden, insecure,
was never able to trust,
the baker girl, innocent,
had learned to trust too much.
The prison's warden, had a test,
to test his lovers faith.
The law was law, and the law was that,
no soul should ever cross,
the sacred shrine, in the lake,
in the Lake of Thought.
The prison's warden sent a letter,
to the lover he held dear,
"Cross the lake, across the shrine,
I will be waiting near".
The baker girl, innocent, naive down to her heart,
full with loves unethical serum of destroying thought,
crossed the lake, across the shrine, across the Lake of Thought.
The prison's warden was not there,
it was his henchman three,
they were waiting, for the girl,
for a law she had broken, a law was broken indeed.
They took her to her prison cell, locked her up, and said,
"The warden will come see you now,
make sure to act real scared".
So with a snicker and a hoot, the henchmen went away,
as the prison's warden, the lovers lover came near.
The baker girl saw his face,
the face she knew she loved,
the face for which she had crossed the lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
As the tears flew down her face, the warden was about to speak,
then he had a shock, and lightning coursed the air.
The prison's warden asked, "Have I treated you bad?"
The baker girl replied in earnest, "Treated me bad, my dear love?
Do you not see these tears?"
The prison's warden realized.
Then so did the baker girl.
Nothing was left at the very end,
other then a prisoner,
mourning the warden.
the Lake of Thought its name,
the two lovers, lovers yet to be
met there a faithful day.
One, a baker girl, knowing little of the world
one, a prison's warden, knowing little of faith or care
they met by the most beautiful lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
They knew not of eachother's jobs,
not as if they cared.
A promise they made, to eachother,
lovers in the fullest,
the baker girl was to never break,
the tiniest of laws.
The prison's warden was to never hurt,
the most terrible of his prisoners,
Promises made, by the most beautiful lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
The prison's warden, insecure,
was never able to trust,
the baker girl, innocent,
had learned to trust too much.
The prison's warden, had a test,
to test his lovers faith.
The law was law, and the law was that,
no soul should ever cross,
the sacred shrine, in the lake,
in the Lake of Thought.
The prison's warden sent a letter,
to the lover he held dear,
"Cross the lake, across the shrine,
I will be waiting near".
The baker girl, innocent, naive down to her heart,
full with loves unethical serum of destroying thought,
crossed the lake, across the shrine, across the Lake of Thought.
The prison's warden was not there,
it was his henchman three,
they were waiting, for the girl,
for a law she had broken, a law was broken indeed.
They took her to her prison cell, locked her up, and said,
"The warden will come see you now,
make sure to act real scared".
So with a snicker and a hoot, the henchmen went away,
as the prison's warden, the lovers lover came near.
The baker girl saw his face,
the face she knew she loved,
the face for which she had crossed the lake,
the Lake of Loves Despair.
As the tears flew down her face, the warden was about to speak,
then he had a shock, and lightning coursed the air.
The prison's warden asked, "Have I treated you bad?"
The baker girl replied in earnest, "Treated me bad, my dear love?
Do you not see these tears?"
The prison's warden realized.
Then so did the baker girl.
Nothing was left at the very end,
other then a prisoner,
mourning the warden.
