Lie Back and Think of England

The Princess makes all her maidens

Get her name

Tattooed somewhere on their body

It is loyalty matter, certainly

But it’s also, just, you know,

Sort of fun

Like, you’re all in a merry band

Of rogues or some such thing

And her name is your connecting, uh--

And it can be somewhere inconspicuous

Such as your back

Or your womanly bosom

Since nobody will be seeing that

As per the rules about all the maidens

Being virgins the whole of their lives

We shall write the name

In the smallest way possible

Provided the tattooist

Is Roger and not Wilford

Wilford tends to do large tattoos

No matter how much

You may ask him

To keep the size within reason

We have spoken to him

Many a time

But he can’t seem

To get the hang out of it

And since Roger is available

Most days

We’ve decided to focus on

Bigger problems

Around the kingdom

Such as the infestation of salamanders

Or that strange odor

Residing near the goat shed

If you’re comfortable

Keeping a secret

From your lady, the Princess

I may tell you

That none of us are very fond

Of the tattooing

A maiden’s skin is fair and pure

And to sully it in such a way

Is offensive to all of us in court

But your Princess is not the Princess

Liable to ascend to the throne

Since she is the ninth of nine Princesses

And short of a disaster similar to the

Castle-Falling-Into-a-Sinkhole Tragedy of 1742

It is unlikely she will ever wear the crown

As such, her behavior

And how she cares to treat

Her ladies is not a great concern

And she does have quite the temper

As I’m sure you’ve heard

So we prefer to simply give her

What she likes

And carry on with it

I will tell you

As someone who has witnessed

The application of the tattoos

Many a time

I cannot lie and say

It appears to be a

Very pleasant experience

Sophie did appear

To enjoy it

But she claims to enjoy all pain

And that’s why

We sent her to the convent

And asked that the nuns

Whip her daily

To break the spirit

From her

In hindsight, it was a pointless tactic

As she only wailed in pleasure

The entire time

And got the sisters so worked up

They all became witches

The rest of the maidens

Cried and screeched
As they were marked

And o, but I did weep with them

Though I could not stop it

From happening

I will tell you

What I told all of them

Even though I doubt

It shall help you

Bear the pain

Lie back and think of England

For with pain, we sacrifice

And when we sacrifice

We sacrifice for England

Our home and the place

That has given us

Descendants and servants

Of God himself

Like the Princess

Who eats raven for dinner

And places her name

On every person she can

We cannot understand her

In the same way

We cannot understand

The Lord, himself

And so learning to love her

Teaches us to love God

That is how you shall

Soldier on bravely

As the piping hot quill

Moves towards your tender flesh

Be courageous, dear

Your country

Demands it

Of you