I know one day my prince will come,
No need for him to be well hung; No,
He will have other qualities,
Some of which you have never seen before.
I struggled in my girlish mind,
Trying so hard to dream up my own Mister Right…
But not a single vision ever came to me,
Such is the love that is not meant to be.
Oh, illusive, amphibian,
In on a poisonous scheme.
In his invitrious house,
Dwells the old sham of a beast.
Beware, the walls are made of gla**…
All here imitates life.
And the symptoms of your sadness
Are the key to this place…
There are two precious holes left in the transparent light.
Once, in a gesture of hope, glued to the barrel's sharpest edge;
The larger one of the tunnels allows the channeled waters to flow,
Because the other one's the exit door where the air comes and goes…
The bubbles of the spectacle,
Unfold their magic, obscene.
The offered rivers all turn lethal;
As the large frog disappears; through veils of sickest transformation,
The oldest of all gestures is born;
A miniature of a prince appears and he is dancing on the crystal floor…
It is imperative now,
To empty your bladder and your bowls.
In only three glorious days the prince, he stretches & grows,
All to it s predestined size, bearing love's promise of life;
Through the disease of a toy we face our secret desire.
I know one day my prince will come,
No need for him to be well hung. No;
He will have other qualities,
A whole bouquet of flowers yet unseen before,
I struggled in my girlish mind,
Trying so hard to dream up my own Mister Right…
But not a single vision ever came to me,
As I was polishing the armoury.
Gone is the fragile beauty the good fairies have called.
Once the tide of the fourth day washes over the shores,
Grown into oddless angles, all distorted & wrong;
So grotesque beyond comprehension,
A royal dick tries to come…