Overgrown baby music. And a man on a horse.


The Khandahar Prince was just a boy
when the wild men rose up to destroy
He saved his face with everyone  
He saved his farce from oblivion 

He was the bestest boy
there ever will be
The bestest boy
Our little wankie man
is the bestest boy of all
Forever and forever 

Other little boys are only up to par 
But in everyone of ours is born a little Prince of Khandahar
We must not tame the lads in case the wild men rise again
No need to train him to behave just ask him if he can 
Did mommy come to heel quickly when you wailed?
When your little bottom stung and your little patience failed
Was she the angel of Heaven who was larger than your life?
Were you the little Prince of Khandahar who played for her his pipe?  
Soon our prince must marry a selected bag o' bride
that hides a prize so tempting she could take him for ride
Mommy wouldn't taunt you or grant you pity love
or laugh behind your back like she is thinking of 
Did your prize come to heel quickly when you wailed?
until her little bottom stung when your little patience failed
Was she the devil from beyond who could end your afterlife?
The Prince of Khandahar would insist she must be nothing but your wife 

What a silly man
what a f*ck for brains
I should thank my luck so far
To think I could ever be a match
for the Prince of Khandahar 

Why this lament?
Why cast this hero and his tales that tell and toll
from the bottom of your memory
as a downer of a ditty
with a sad little tune?
Why does the story of your life
deserve to be this lament?
Because it is so lamentable