Is it odd to believe in fairy-tale love?
Is it impossible to achieve it?
If I told you I had found it
Would you believe it?
To me it wouldn't matter,
If you chose to believe me or not,
Because I know and he knows we're special;
Fairy-tale love is what we've got.
Separated by a hundred miles of concrete
And no car to travel the distance,
But he kisses me everyday.
The "how" doesn't make a difference.
We never go to sleep angry
Even if we're up all night
Most of that time's spent reminiscing
Or dreaming of what the future'll be like
Puppy love is what some people call it
But we're not naive to love's pains
We're finding a happily ever after
With whatever pages of it remains.

Once upon a time, in a little old forest,
There lived a baker, a butcher, and a florist.
They were so poor that they decided one day
To figure out which of them was the poorest.

The baker stood up proud
"It is I who is the poorest.
"I obviously have the least.
"All my bread, by rats, was devoured
"And I haven't any more flour.
"This last loaf is my final feast."

"Not you, but I," said the butcher from his shop.
"It is I who has nothing at all to eat
"My deli's full of bones.
"Oh! How my stomach groans!
"What's a butcher without any meat?"

And the florist, in a whisper,
Mumbled his protest
"Why even if my flowers bloomed,
"I fear my career is regrettable,
"As flowers are not edible,
"For I am the poorest and doomed."

Then the baker nodded
And the butcher agreed,
Though they had not very much,
The florist was the poorest indeed.

Before the day was over,
There were crumbs all on the ground
Said the Butcher, with his cutting tool
"Why the florist, he was such a fool"
And since then, he was never to be found.