I don't want to be a prince any more. Living in a drafty castle is a drag. Bowing to kings and queens gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be a horse. Living in a meadow would be just grand. I'd spend all day racing the wind and jumping over hedges, And I'd kick my heels At that nasty old castle built high upon the land.
I don't want to be a prince any more. Dueling with squires is a drag. Jousting and fencing gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be a stag. Dueling with antlers would be just grand. I'd spend all day playing tag with other stags, And I'd lead hunters away From that nasty old castle built high upon the land.
I don't want to be a prince any more. Wearing flowery capes and golden crowns is a drag. Dancing all night at fancy balls gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be an apple tree. Wearing tasty red apples and never changing outfits would be grand. I'd spend all day dancing in the breeze, And I'd throw rotten apples At that nasty old castle built high upon the land. I don't want to be a prince any more. Splashing in my hot tub is a drag. Cleaning out the grungy moat gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be a whale. Splashing and thrashing my tail would be grand. I'd spend all day leaping about, And I'd aim my spout to put out campfires Beneath that nasty old castle built high upon the land.
I don't want to be a prince any more. Waving to adoring crowds is a drag. Shouting and spouting speeches gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be a bit of seaweed. Waving to silly sea monsters would be grand. I'd spend all day floating on the sea, And I'd make a slippery beach Below that nasty old castle built high upon the land.
I don't want to be a prince any more. Polishing rusty armor is a drag. Capturing cranky dragons gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be a big fat bullfrog. Polishing my lily pad would be grand. I'd spend all day hopping rock to bank, And I'd chase the fish in the moat Below that nasty old castle built high upon the land. I don't want to be a prince any more. Hanging up purple banners is a drag. Chopping off heads of villains gets to be a bore.
I'd rather be the sun filling up the sea. Hanging out in the sky would be grand. I'd spend all day spilling songs of fire and warmth, And I'd hide behind the clouds and chill That nasty old castle built high upon the land.
But since I must remain a prince, And live in a drafty castle And duel with lowly squires And dance at fancy balls And splash in my hot tub And wave at adoring crowds And polish rusty armor And capture cranky dragons And chop off heads,
Then a prince I'll always be.
Except those days When something else I'll be
Like a tiger Or a clown Or a tiny firefly sparking in the sky.