The other day, for the first time in a very long time, I heard the Barbie Song. So, being me, I decided to parody it, in hour of Alianore Audley and The Mists of Middleham her newly published adventure.
I hope you enjoy it. (My usual twisted sense of humour does not appeal to all.)
Hiya, Alianore!
Hi, Roger!
Ready to go to Mass?
Sure!
Come on then!
I’m a Yorkist girl, in a Yorkist world,
We haven’t any plastic, it’s fantastic.
Never any stress, three girls to help me dress,
You have to know your station; it’s that kind of nation.
Come on Alianore! Let’s get to chapel!
Pregnant every year, no obstetric care,
Grit your teeth and pray, you know it’s just God’s way.
To work I need not go; just sit at home and sew.
Life’s not so very pleasant, but better than a peasant’s.
I have to hide my hair, or I might as well be bare.
Shave my forehead clean, naked as a bean.
It’s plucking that I hate, makes me so irate.
But it’s all the fashion, it has to be my passion.
My lord has all the cash. I cannot make a splash.
Life can oft be funny, I still don’t have no money!
At least he treats me well. No bruises you can tell.
It could be ten times worse, I could be on a hearse.
Come on Alianore, let’s go to Middleham!
Middleham is freezing; I am always sneezing.
I wait upon the Duchess, nothing there can touch us.
I can brush her hair, kneel before her chair.
It’s a super job; I’m part of Richard’s ‘blob’.
I’m a Yorkist girl, in a Yorkist world,
We haven’t any plastic, it’s fantastic.
Never any stress, three girls to help me dress,
You have to know your station; it’s that kind of nation.
Come on Alianore! Let’s ride up Coverdale!
Oh, I can’t wait, Roger!