The tower is dark,
the lark is not heard,
ravens are waiting,
the sun must rise,
her last morning
will be full of light.
The scaffold is ready,
so is the crowd,
and also the blond man
who came from France.
He sees her approaching,
and loves her at first sight,
he has come to kill her
and there`s pain in his heart.
She mounts the steps,
addresses the crowd,
gives him his purse,
forgives him with her smile.
He spares her pain
the most he can.
will always remember her,
deep in his heart.
No dawn shall find them
together in love,
no night shall wrap them
in its darkness and lust.
They could have been lovers
if only she hadn`t been a Queen,
if only she did not have to die,
if only he hadn`t travelled
from Calais in the dark night,
if only he hadn`t been
the best sword in Europe
to kill at command.
