If I could write a fairy tale,
Sipping some bitter ginger ale,
I would begin the spin,
In the forbidden dungeons of wool spins,
Where I would prickle my little finger,
And fall asleep, deeply; linger
Then wait to feel my prince’s kiss,
To awaken the beautiful miss.
You would then be my knight in shining armour,
I the damsel in distress, hurting without a murmur
The dismayed princess for whom you get your white cape muddy,
Swinging me atop that royal white horse; ruddy
Then we would ride away into the wind,
Into the beautiful sunset that would forever us bind.
I would be Cinderella, cleaning the cellars
For whom you would deign your dignity and royalty; zealous
Seeking me out to presumptuously return my glass slipper,
Carefully slipping my dainty foot into it deeper,
Smoothing my soft toes arranged like a corn field,
And holding me in your arms, forever my shield.
Perhaps the tables would turn,
You would be the frog in the urn,
And I the unpredictable princess,
Whose kiss would be priceless,
Maybe I would kiss many frogs,
Big Frogs, Ugly frogs, Fat frogs, Noisy frogs,
But my quest for you wouldn’t wane,
Till kiss I my prince and ride royally; on a white mane.
Hey, you could be the unsightly beast,
And I the aesthete girl, kissed by the mist
I could be afraid and turn my back,
But that would be the cowardly act of a timid buck,
My, would I have loved your gory growl,
Or perhaps, it would have made me crawl
But to you, to help you, free you, break you out
Then we would love and live passionately, as we ought.
If I could write My Fairy Tale,
I would change not any part of you, My Fairy Tale
You would be you and I would be I,
And boy, would we see eye to eye,
But baby life ain’t a fairy tale,
Sometimes it’s as bitter as ale,
Yet I love the romance, royalty, loyalty and glamour
For which I always clamour.
So, Somehow, Always, Forever, Faithfully: Won’t you be My Fairy Tale?