Hello Toast!

Many many years ago, lived a princess oh so bright,
Except for one small fetish: a different suitor every night,
Wait, actually come to think of it, she wasn’t great at all,
Because each of these poor suitors would end up dead at dawn,

Then a keen and valiant prince came to her bed one eve,
I can’t remember his name exactly, but for now let's call him Steve,
The princess took poor Steve to her boudoir ‘just to hang’,
But all was go and Steve and co were at it all like ‘daaaang’

After three good minutes, and as any man that’s ‘done’,
Steve closed his eyes and drifted off, to dream of battles won,
So Steve awoke at midnight just to go and grab his clothes,
And the crazy witch was in his face, smoke pouring from her nose,

He freaked and did an army roll, grabbed his blade up off the floor,
And with one stroke, he slit her throat and killed that dirty who...really not nice princess.
And now to celebrate New Year, and the freedom of Steve’s soul,
Euphemism in full effect, they erect a giant pole.

2070, New Years Eve, the pole goes up again,
Standing 90ft, ropes hanging down, it’s scaled by ‘sane’ young men,
Many make an effort and three men break away,
Not knowing really whether they will live or die today,

The pressure’s on, the crowd goes nuts, and then they hold their breath,
One steps, he slips, the closest shave, he stares down the eyes of death,
But it’s too late, the crowd erupts, another man has won
And the reward for risking life and limb? A promised first born son.