OFF WITH THEIR HEADS [Intro – marching snare, distant organ] First came the cards. Two by two. Red paint dripping from white roses. One looked at me. “Don't ask.” Then the drums began. [Verse 1] She came through the garden like weather with a crown. Everybody bent before she made a sound. The King walked behind her. Small steps. Quiet hands. Picking up the pieces of her latest command. Then she saw me. Stopped. Looked me over. “Who is this?” Nobody answered. Wrong answer. [Chorus – marching gang vocals] OFF WITH HER HEAD! [STOP] Someone bowed. Someone ran. Someone wrote it down. OFF WITH HIS HEAD! [STOP] Wrong rose. Wrong word. Wrong turn. HEADS! HEADS! PAINT THEM RED! EVERYBODY LOSE SOMETHING BEFORE WE GO TO BED! [Verse 2] Croquet in the garden. Flamingo in my hand. Hedgehog rolled left when the Queen said right. She screamed at the mallet. She sentenced the grass. She threatened a soldier for breathing too fast. “OFF WITH HIS—” The King leaned over. “Already pardoned.” She didn't hear him. Or pretended not to. [Pre-Chorus] Another crime. Another decree. Another frightened court agreeing to agree. Ten condemned. Twenty. Thirty. I looked around. No heads. Not one. [Chorus – bigger] OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! [STOP] Someone bowed. Someone ran. Someone wrote it down. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! [STOP] Wrong rose. Wrong word. Wrong turn. HEADS! HEADS! PAINT THEM RED! EVERYBODY LOSE SOMETHING BEFORE WE GO TO BED! [Instrumental Break – galloping drums / tremolo guitar / glockenspiel] Bow. Run. Write it down. Bow. Run. Don't look around. Bow. Run. [HARD STOP] ...why? [Verse 3 – dry close vocal] The trial started after supper. Nobody knew the charge. The jury wrote their answers before anybody talked. Evidence: a teacup. A crumb. A poem that didn't rhyme. The Queen said, “Sentence first.” The King said, “Trial—” She looked at him. He lowered his eyes. A King afraid of a Queen. A court afraid of a sentence. A room full of people afraid of a word. And I laughed. I couldn't help it. [Half-Time Breakdown] She turned toward me. “What did you say?” “Nothing.” “OFF WITH HER HEAD!” Nobody moved. She said it again. Louder. “OFF. WITH. HER. HEAD.” Still— nobody moved. And suddenly I saw it. The crown. The cards. The drums. The red paint still wet on the roses. All that noise. All that fear. Held together by everyone pretending it was stronger than they were. [Build – marching snare returns] She pointed at me. I stood up. And kept standing. [Final Chorus – Alice against gang vocals] [Queen / Gang] OFF WITH HER HEAD! [Alice] No. [Queen / Gang] OFF WITH HER HEAD! [Alice] No. [Queen] DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? [Alice] Yes. [STOP] That's why I'm not afraid anymore. [Instrumental Explosion] [Gang vocals fragmenting] OFF WITH— OFF WITH— OFF— WITH— HEADS! HEADS! HE— [HARD CUT] [Outro – glockenspiel and room ambience] The garden went quiet. The Queen was still shouting. But without everybody shouting with her— she sounded very small. I stepped over a white rose painted red. Underneath, it was still white.
