{{ open // like to be messaged for plotting

He couldn’t help it. It was stuck in his head, the irony not lost on him, one who had died for a rebellion against the monarchy. As such, as he played the piano, he idly tapped out the opening notes, figuring out the subsequent harmonies and melodies as he went. It wasn’t that complicated. Still, when he got to the chorus, it came out under his breath, as, “-- And we’ll never be royals...”