Work Text:
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
I′m begging of you, please, don't take my bath
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
“There’s room for two,” sounds quite a bit like math
Your countenance’s a frightsome sight
You’re six feet long and you can bite
With teeth of white, as sharp as Damian’s sword
This bathhouse is not your domain
Yet all my struggles are in vain
And Kip laughs when you chase me out, My Lord
Yet he believed that you were real
When I ran out with a great squeal
And told him of my latest foe, My Lord
And yes it does incur my wrath
To see you when I’m in the bath
I could trade you the Imperial Baths, My Lord
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
I′m begging of you, please, don′t take my bath
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
“There’s room for two,” sounds quite a bit like math
I don’t know about Saya Dorn
But I bathe just as I was born
I’m used to different company, My Lord
I hope you take my words to heart
I’m, after all, a famous bard
And if you can understand my plea, My Lord
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
I'm begging of you, please, don′t take my bath
My Lord, My Lord, My Lord, My Lord
Take my title, let me have the bath
My Lord, My Lord