Letras
Hello, Your Highness
I won't fall short
I'm the new jester
Of your court
You know I've travelled
Many a mile
With just one purpose
To make you smile
I heard the last guy wasn't your type
Victim of the hype
I hope that I won't meet the same fate
With my head on a plate
Well I can't juggle
How 'bout a joke
Have you heard the one about the artichoke?
"I guess you don't like produce"
Under my breath I said
Just then a ripe tomato
Collided with my head
In the rain singing
Going down swinging
I love the glow of your chateau
Enough chit-chat let's get on with the show
It's tit for tat and quid pro quo
The bells are ringing
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah
She summoned the guards
Spears with pointy tips
Last chance to move the corners of her tightly pursed lips
Skip to the grand finale
It went as you'd expect
They didn't let me rally
Stopped me mid-pirouette
In the rain singing
Going down swinging
She's flipping through a magazine
As I'm acting out her favorite scene
Please Queen
Not the guillotine!
I'm left clinging
To the mud they're slinging
And the bells are ringing
Wait!