Happily ever after

There's a story I've heard,
I believe every word,
About a girl from the county of King,
Who drove her dear daddy
A bit worse than batty.
Oh, she was a tumultuous thing.

True, she tried now and then,
And then sometimes again,
To behave like a dutiful child.
But her miss was so wide
That her daddy still cried,
"Will she ever quit being so wild?"

I remember a time
When a hunk rang the chime,
And asked for Anna, lovely and sweet.
Well, he seemed kind of nice,
So I gave him advice—
“You’re over your head lad, retreat.”

But his love made him blind,
And he paid me no mind,
He kept coming again and again,
With a flower each time,
And a poem or a rhyme.
The poor boy was immune to the pain.

'Til, like the flighty Thrush,
That flits through the brush,
Anna left him with nothing but the time,
“You are such a dork,
Every road has its fork,
Just run on back to your home to pine.”

With a flip of her locks,
She turned to new jocks.
She treated each one just the same.
Every lad's despair
Was another stair
In her life of gilt, glamour, and fame.

But, even in stone,
A seed can be grown.
And it happened, her heart
turned to clay,
When Sean stepped to the door—
Anna swooned to the floor—
And lived happy ever after they say.