You were a traveling troubadour
Upon my father's castle door
A princess of nobility
I'm promised to another king
So privileged we, materially
But such responsibility
Like Eleanor of Aquitaine
I'm showered in the finer things
And you, my favorite one of these
Compose medieval poetry
On courtly love and chivalry
Play mandolin and sing for me
Engage in witty repartee
And when all lords and ladies leave
You lean in close and kiss my cheek
At night I lay and think of thee
In glee and peace and reverie
Of how your voice especially
Does make me feel so heavenly
Upon the dawn I call for ye
I'm told that you are absentee
So carry on dejectedly
With hope that you I'll someday see
Among our aristocracy
