From the beginning, I want to be clear
I doubt you will like what you are about to hear.
My story is sad with spoonfuls of despair
I'll pause for a minute, by all means make your exit, the door's over there.
Alright you foolish few if you're gonna listen, listen up good
I will not be repeating myself, are we understood?
From when I was young, just a babe in arms
My mother would sing a lullaby about the prince I would charm
He would be big and strong, could scoop me up in his palm
He would be handsome and clever, cause me no alarm
So on this promise, I set off through the years
Searching for my prince, scouring the furtherest frontiers
But he was nowhere to be found and I was all alone, forever I feared
So I said to myself, that's it, no more, time to focus on your career
I packed up and moved, now seeking professional bliss
I though my chances were better in this grand metropolis
I tried to forget all about love, I could get used being called 'Miss'
But then, across the office, illuminated by the glow of photocopier, there he was, my prince did exist.
I knew I was staring but I had no control
Lips made to be kissed, hands to be held, hair of flowing gold
Maybe he's wealthy, an athlete, or an artist! Oh his poor tortured soul.
This cannot be real, he's probably out on parole
He turned, I gasped, he walked across the office floor
He was approaching, this is it, our first encounter, mi amour
I was all a quiver, what do I do? I was not sure
He spoke, I can't be sure what, but I responded "Lenore"
He issued a welcome, I thanked him, he granted me a smile
Oh for that smile, the years of heartache had all been worthwhile
He complemented my dress, he liked my style
I studied his structure, Oooo I hope he's fertile.
I pursed my lips making sure the excitement did not show on my face
It was going so well, we were perfect combination, his wit, my grace
Then he said "Hey, I'll show you around sometime, where do you live? Have you found a place?"
My response was "Barton Heights", he grabbed my arms excitedly "Oh, thats so perfect!" - were we about to embrace?
My quizzical look prompted a devastating response, "Oh sorry, it's just my wife and I, we live nearby!"
His wife? No, no. No, no, no, no, no, he is suppose to be my prince, my guy.
I will never feel his kiss, his protective hand resting on my thigh
My mother's god damn lullaby was clearly a lie.
I told you you wouldn't like it but since you stayed please be clear on what I've said
Princes are for princesses, just like in the story books you've read
But I live in the real world and will not be mislead
My prince is not dashing on horseback, he is honest and funny and likely overfed.
I know that when I meet him, although it probably won't be soon
We won't whisper sweet nothings or hold each other whilst gazing at the moon
Things will take their natural course, we'll sing a different tune
I will be happy, he will be happy and from others fairytales we will be immune.