Sleeping Beauty was a razor,

Sleeping Beauty was a razor,

A quick thinker and favored,

Unspun cloth marked her birth,

And people liked her kind of flavor.

But under the soft skirts and lessons on needlepoint, there was

a kind of hunger she couldn't talk about and a need to dissapoint.

Sixteen came too fast, and she was never afraid,

Found the one spinning wheel left and hurt herself on purpose.

She needed to know she could be hurt and hurt others in kind,

Take her feelings out on the kingdom she'd rule,

And the thornbushes that turned her sky dark

Were penitence for teenage wants.

Oh, memory faded before she learned her lesson,

Dreams were her only blessing and rosepetals her only washing,

The prince thought he was special but her time was just up,

She sent the man home, and gave her parents a push,

And the kindgom without spindles had a monarch who could

Pay with a little blood for the things that were good for her.