All she ever wanted was a wedding like the ones in the fairy tales,

the carriage, the white horses, of course a diamond ring.

She met a man one day, heaven made to be her prince;

for him, she would've done most anything.


She told all the women at the clinic where she worked

that he was handsome, and drove a new sportscar.

But her sister was always there, always asking him, who’s prettier.

And he said, oh you're the pretty one. You're prettier by far.


All she ever wanted was a fairy-tale wedding,

a wedding like the ones in the catalogs.

And she knew what he wanted,

and she thought about the clinic

and those bottles at the clinic-

she used it all the time,

on cats and dogs.


That night they watched a movie

and they made drinks for her sister.

Behind her sister’s head he mouthed, When?

She mouthed back, Shhh,

and poked the girl then nodded with a wet rag in her hand.

She turned the bottle up and soaked the rag again.


She gave him everything he ever wanted.

She gave him something money couldn't buy.

Her sleeping prince was snoring,

she poked the girl again;

her sister lay still as still could lie.


All she ever wanted was a prince-and-princess wedding,

where she could shine in all her bridal glory.

Princes come and go but there was half the bottle left,

and only one princess in this story.

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