The Prince

[Harris/Tatler] Now I see his face, I've seen him smile Such in a lonely place, no golden mile His eyes tell morbid tales, of his black heart His deeds through ages past, tell of his part See his face, see his smile Time to die An angel from below, c

Buster, he sold the heat With a rocksteady beat An earthquake is erupting But not in orange street A ghost dance is preparing You got to help us with your feet If youre not in the mood to dance Step back, grab yourself a seat This may not be uptown j