The Prince and the Pig.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Song Lyrics  |  House: Booksie Classic

At the ball thrown for the prince to find a wife, the prince can't get the lewd thoughts of the disgusting head chef out of his mind.

Did you hear About the ball in the castle?

The one the king is throwing for his son?

Come along, for the most luscious of maidens

Are there to prove they can be the princes special one.

But if they only knew the truth

They'd know no matter how much they beg

They were all lacking something dangling between their legs!

 

I'm normally composed.

As much as I respect that my father

Sees me as a bargaining chip to be sold

I wonder if he'd be quite as accepting

Of the secret I never told?

I'll let these girls enjoy their one night,

Let them have their one night with me.

But in the back of my mind like a splinter

Are my thoughts of head chef Dupre.

 

A man with no style nor grace

Matted unkempt beard

Grease smeared across his face

You'd be amazed that there's any food left on the plate

When you see his sorry state.

And yet that grease seems to make his skin glisten

His dark eyes showing more than defeat

And those all his food tastes revolting

There is one thing of his I would happily ea-

 

Ahem. Sorry.

I'm normally composed.

You look ravishing my dear

May I have this dance?

Spinning round and round

All eyes on you and me

And I wonder if those eyes

Include head chef dupre?

His beard looks like he's being attacked by a racoon

His apron stained with all of the unknown

Oh if only he'd spank me with that wooden spoon I would make a few stains of my-

 

Ahem. Sorry.

I'm normally composed.

It's not you my dear

It's entirely me

And head chef dupre

Only me

and head chef dupre

Oh what I'd give to see

Head chef dupre

To receive

Head chef dupre

 

Your folds of your fat won't escape my brain

The flavours of your beard driving me insane

Stuff me like those skinny turkeys

They're the only birds I like

I don't want to settle down with a wife and a tyke

Our sweat is the gravy for the pork oh

Scratch down my back with your knife and fork

Oh chef dupre

Taste test me

I'd be so happy

Why must up put up this farce

Grab the goose fat lube me up and fuck me hard in the aaa-ah-ah...

 

Ahem.

I'm so sorry.

I'm normally composed.

 


Submitted: September 05, 2015

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