Conversations with my daughter

[rivka]

Me: (noticing the decapitated head of Snow White lying on the dining room table): Oh no, what happened to Snow White?
Alex: I was taking off her cape and her head came off.
Me: Poor Snow White!
Alex: It's okay. I'm having lots of fun with her head, pretending that she's Anne Boleyn and stuff.

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[rivka.livejournal.com]

Because she's the subject of a very fine song, and when Michael and I lived in Iowa City our favorite drunken Celtic bar band used to sing it.

Now in the Tower of London, large as life
The ghost of Anne Boleyn walks, they declare
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife
Until he had the axeman bob her hair
Oh yes, he done her wrong long years ago
And she comes back each night to tell him so.

Chorus: With her head (head!) tucked (tucked!) underneath her arm
She waaaaaalks the bloody tower
With her head (head!) tucked (tucked!) underneath her arm
At the midnight hour.

She's going to find King Henry, she's going to give him what for
Gadzooks, she's going to tell him off for having spilled her gore
And just in case the axeman tries to give her an encore
She's got her head tucked underneath her arm.

Along the drafty corridors for miles and miles she goes
She often catches cold, poor dear, it's cold there when it blows
And it's awfully awkward for the queen when she has to blow her nose
With her head tucked underneath her arm.

Now sometimes old King Henry throws a spread
With all his pals and gals, the ghostly crew
The axeman carves the joints and cuts the bread
When in walks Anne Boleyn to spoil the 'do.
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop
And Henry cries "Don't drop it in the soup!"

One night she found King Henry, he was in the castle bar
Said he, "Are you Jane Seymour, Anne Boleyn, or Katherine Parr?
Now how the hell am I supposed to know just who you are?
You've got your head tucked underneath your arm."

The sentries think that it's a football that she carries in
And as she passes by they shout "Is Army going to win?"
For they think that it's Red Grange instead of poor old Anne Boleyn
With her head tucked underneath her arm.