Don't own the Labyrinth. Wish I did, but if wishes were horses, I wouldn't have time to do anything but muck stalls.
A Plea to the Goblin King
Oh Goblin King, Goblin King come take me away,
away from this world that's dull, dreary, and grey.
For this child of mine I'm ready to hit,
ready to throw a conniption fit,
ready to toss in your bog of bad stench,
ready to maul with a steel Allen wrench,
ready to cast into hellish black fire,
Please take me away before I expire!
I can't stand the noise, the yelling, the screams,
the steadfast dissolvement of childhood dreams.
Forceful destruction of beloved toys,
forceful encouragement to encourage boys,
forceful removal of fairytale books,
forceful disapproval in parental looks,
forceful banishment of magic to dust,
I have to escape before I combust!
Goblin King, please hear me and answer my plea,
Whisk me away to your home verily.
For this world is too harsh, the air too stale,
the magic too weak for this final fairytale.
The moon has no rhythm, the stars have no songs,
the world as I see it is disturbingly wrong.
The sun doesn't smile with heavenly praise.
I shall not surrender to the doldrumic haze!
Think what you will, think what you may,
but hear the truth in the words I relay:
I believe in the Goblins, I believe in your power,
I believe in the magic of the thirteenth hour.
I believe beginnings and endings can be both the same,
I believe the Labyrinth to be more than a game,
I believe that the words were only the start.
So please, Goblin King...
...have a heart?