A damsel in distress, not wearing a dress,
Just a bikini as is usually the case.
My skin is clear, in my scream is fear,
I hope to attract a chivalrous face.
But so far no one, a very hot sun,
My legs tired from the unusual sprint.
The screaming left me hoarse, I have to force,
Words that need no careful stint.
This plan was bad, with anger quite mad,
I'll die unmarried and a bitch.
I'll grow a chin long, hair always wrong,
And look haggard like a witch.
Why so few good men, or so many so poor,
I'd rather starve than be betrothed to a mendicant.
Where are my princess's dreams now?
Where the castle with a meadow slightly slant?
I'll shit in a saucepan, marry an ordinary man,
Probably as dumb as dirt.
If only I could seduce a bald rich jew,
I'll be at least wearing a fancy skirt.
But I don't know, I'll probably be a ho,
The income is better in the brothel usually.
I'll keep my eyes open, grab the first nitwit when,
He can't say no to end my concocted misery.
