The Jest of It All

She was seventeen when she was crowned the boy’s queen They had all had a turn by the time she was eighteen And the jest of it all had her floating on air But when she was alone she was simply a child again They had led her to indulge in her hedonism too There was no time for morals or lessons, she knew For the jest of it all was as tempting as sin Still she’d pray to a god, every night she was a woman again The alcohol in her, she never could handle But to her drunken remarks, no one could hold a candle It was the jest of it all after shooting up Fridays But when she came down she was sober like Mondays again In her twenties her ignorance was put on for shows Her pretty young eyes were as deep as she goes Though the executives went in even deeper than that The jest of it all and her body kept her floating again Her family ties were as loose as could be And her legs were open for her weekly jubilee So when an unwanted surprise grew inside She began to wake up from her directionless ride And the jest of it all had subsided to life For the queen, once a jester, was only a mother to them