some sort of kingship

it takes so long to find the proper place

no one would blame you if you thought us lost

these are not times of intellectual grace

a lack of honour's clear on every face

what's seen today is simply the first frost

it takes so long to find the proper  place

the power was given to those who debase

all that is good and never count the cost

these are not times of intellectual grace

the journey down the hill picks up its pace

while honesty and truth have both been tossed

it takes so long to find the proper place

we see the fool is wearing silk and lace

his calling card is fetchingly embossed

these are not times of intellectual grace

you fall at last into their dank embrace

gross lying words have all been smoothly glossed

it takes so long to find the proper place

these are not times of intellectual grace