Seven Brides, One Crown

We're seven brides in satin white. Waiting for the wedding night. But who'll he

choose? Who'll wear the crown? Come on, girls.

Don't let him down. Ephesus speaks first, strong and proud. I work the

hardest, stand out loud. But love, I left it back in spring.

Still, duty makes my spirit sing. Then comes Smyrna, pale but brave.

I kiss the sword, I face the grave. No riches here,

no golden shoes. But pain's a perfume he won't lose. Pergamum twirls with

just a glance. I live where Satan starts his dance. I've held the