On this patched up cushion,

underneath the ragged gown,

On the verge of union,

sits your princess with a frown.

And dangling on her fingers,

cigarette of her shattered dream,

where gray smoke lingers,

it dimmed her light including her gleam.

Go on; stab her with that iron spear.

watch her bleed and sense the pain she'll feel.

Take a bucket, catch that glassy tear.

Sitting Shivah, this goddess is for real.

On her head lies her crown of thorns,

wrapped with burden, caped with fear.

Listen to her wail; watch as she mourns.

She's not your savior, she's deception's seer.

Sitting Shivah, kneeling goddess,

Bow that head; pray for your core.

Plead for freedom, you earned it dear empress.

Seek your wings, it's time to soar.

But i'm chained to this throne,

I'm locked up in this fortress.

I have this grief and it's mine alone

I'm sitting Shivah, your weeping goddess.