Queen of the cardiac massage.

QUEEN OF THE CARDIAC MASSAGE.
sneak

A warped image of Diana -
driving a Mercedes Benz,
around the streets of my town -
and running down my friends.
The look of satisfaction -
on her mutilated face.
Diana the royal joy rider.
Illegally she'll race.
Revving up her engine -
at the traffic lights.
Running down old people -
with imperfected sight.
Laughing like a psycho.
Diana never died.
Don't believe the papers.
Even Charlie lied.
They locked her in a dungeon.
Tired of her ways.
Doing good for others?
Kissing those with AIDS?
She was far too normal.
Too nice to be a queen.
They locked her up in irons -
and bled away her dream.
But chains can't hold bulimia.
She slipped away the night.
Elated in disfigurement,
beneath the pale moon light.
A victim of conspiracy.
Alone, at last she's free.
A candle in a hurricane -
repeats on her CD.
The queen of the cardiac massage.
Joy riding in my town.
Higher than the royalty -
that she's helping to bring down.

sneak.

Happy 40th Birthday Diana. Wherever you are.