I would forbid the cook to put those four-& twenty blackbirds in a pie. Instead, I would have them released.
I wouldn't call for my pipe, but fiddlers three would be welcome. I hope they know "Ragtime Annie" and "Salt River".
I'd try not to spend too much time in my counting house, counting out my money, (especially if the queen were in the parlour eating bread & honey).....
I may have to re-think the blackbirds though; or the maid hanging out the clothes, will have a problem. Decisions, decisions.... maybe I'm not cut out to be a king after all.
I think I shall be a jolly pie-man, and I'll have a pie ready for simple Simon when I meet him. He's a nice kid, if not too bright.
Kinging isn't all it's cracked up to be.