Grazing through a field of family forgot
his mummy fed him scorn and pride
and then she left him there to rot
Without a kingdom to begot,
a throne of self-entitled shame,
and no one but his Lady Fortune
oh, Miss Fortune was her name
Locked away up in his tower
refusing to come down
he is safe within his head
and well guarded by his crown
Prince Dulling, on his hands and knees
ate shillings from the floor
by which, he swore his people would
adore their new king even more
For if he jingled as he walked
and clanked around the hips
they might not hear those silly words
that stumbled from his pretty lips
They called him mad, though he was sure
his frugal practice made him wiser
for when he needed legal aid
he'd be both bank and his advisor
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