fairytale
In the land of mystery And misery There’s a place beyond your wildest reveries To a world beyond audacity and forebode To a palace of stairs of halls of rooms Where wine flows out of river mouths And fruit fall from the highest heavens The royal lofts are lined with purple velvet -- A sure sign of royalty.
As the princess dwells in such splendour The peasant girl has spent her last penny On half a bowl of gruel In such a world so cruel Where rainwater is honoured And gruel is expected For supper.
At the end of the day The peasant girl is welcomed By her humble pile of straw And is rewarded with aching ankles And nothing for tomorrow.
As the princess lays in her quarters with nothing to do The peasant girl lays still in the cold of the night.
