She’s tall and lanky,
known to be cranky,
but she has a heart
that is made of gold.
Her head now spins,
as her long hair thins.
She still brushes it,
so I have been told.
Trapped in her tower
she hasn’t the power
to fend off the evils
of RF and mold.
Rapunzel! Rapunzel!
Don’t let down your hair!
I can’t climb up there!
I’ve gotten too weak,
tho’ still feeling bold.
My princess, my friend,
all the way to the end,
laughing our asses off,
together, growing old.