And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside
They hang on every breath, cling to his chest, home to his heart full of pride
The oracle told him to beware the ides
And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing for untimely death or demise
Or am I just wishing I could be like you
That the people would see me too as a poet
Oh it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you
From birth we've been like brothers, of different mothers
Within the spirit of the same womb
May the gods strike me down if I forsake you
You're beautifully made and to you I'm forever grateful