(no subject)

[titusnowl]

As I strolled down along the quay
All in the lateness of the day,
I heard a lovely maiden say:
"Alack, for I can get no play."

A minstrel boy heard what she said
And straight he rushed to her aid,
But too much drink the task forbade,
And so the maid he could not lay.

Alack for I can get no play,
Oh woe is me and lackaday,
O chaste and pure I'll always stay,
Alack for I can get no play.

To mirror went she straightaway
And did her ruby hair array
And for her gown she much did pay
Though on her bod it should not stay.

Then down she walked along the street,
A handsome lad she chanced to meet,
And sore by dawn were her dainty feet,
But all the boys were gay.

Then cried she at the break of day
And hung her head in such dismay
To mourn the dearth of fine boo-tay
"Alack, for I can get no play."

Alack for I can get no play,
Oh woe is me and lackaday,
O chaste and pure I'll always stay,
Alack for I can get no play."


Cassandra Claire cracks me up.