She was a killer queen, or so the song goes
She moved from Paris up to Aberdeen
It’s true she was no English rose
And a sleazy stinking Travelodge was where she made her bed
But in the conference room she smelled of sweet perfume
And the dress she wore was Red

Walked in a room filled with thoughts of revolution
And all the crowd were cheering at the words they thought were best
I asked some guy who I was here to talk to
And he pointed to a woman in an old red dress

She looked at me and I looked back with desire
And I could sense that somewhere in her mind
There crept a burning yearning fire
And I knew she stemmed from royalty, despite the things she said
Because her eyes were blue and her blood was too
But at least her dress was Red

I said “Let’s find a room and talk about the things you do”
And she said “Yes, that seems the best way forward for the war”
And as she led me through the corridors and business rooms
She told me of her policies, her thoughts and deeds and more

She said that violence was sometimes the way
And that by holding out and keeping strong
We might just find a brighter day
And she said she wouldn’t stop until the Enemy was dead
And I believed her enemy was blue
For the dress she wore was Red

All through the interview, my eyes relaxed, enjoyed the view
And all my ears could hear was the sweet music of a lark
She said “It’s time to go, come with me if you want to know
Just how I win my battles, win the crowd and leave a mark”

And as she stood upon her podium tall,
The words she used against her rival were enough to make him fall.
Both wanted revolution, or at least that’s what they said,
But the crowd were cheering louder for the woman dressed in Red

And with her battle won, she wouldn’t stay for anyone,
But slipped off down a side-street as if searching for a fight
I wondered where she had to go,
In my profession I must know,
So I followed down that side-street to a world as black as night

Her footsteps left a soft destruction in their wake
And as her heels clicked on the ground
I felt a silence was about to break
These old stone walls would crumble ‘til the notables had fled
And the cold black night would fade away to a morning warm and Red

I turned a corner and she was not trading contraband,
But meeting with her rival in a spell of secret bliss
He said “What do you gain? Your lust for power causes pain.”
But all that was forgotten as they leaned in for a kiss…

But she had knowledge of anatomy as well
And as she drew her dagger downwards
She was able to ignore the smell.
In an oozing pool of offal, she abandoned him for dead
A stinking, stale cadaver
Though the police would never have her
For the dress she wore was Red