The rook can look left, right, just turns his head. But the knight might rise up, investigate the grid…

I didn’t come looking for love
I didn’t come to pick a fight
I didn’t come to wave or take pictures
Pander to some benefactor, ring on every broken finger
Won’t extend my wings to be clipped
I know the culture here is to stay humble but shit
If we all go round bowed heads, button-lipped
If none of us go for the bell, then who is?
My mother says I’ve loved too many men
But I took and left something in every single bed
The rook can look left, right—just turns his head
But the knight might rise up, investigate the grid