Soldier Beetles

I hung out his washing to dry And the horsemen did say Oh don't you be doing his work, it will indeed never go 'way But I have made home in his world, for I make the beds in the castle where am I to go Oh, doe eyes, why does his footloose surprise you You know my soft heart, is printed by those who don't choose Howling at the moon For the king, and his concubines leap Dumbing down the news Soldier beetles: infect the June I made him a cake all my own He gave it one bite And fed it to his Lady Red When he was out of my sight But you can make home in my world For I make the beds in the castle, where are you to go Oh, dough hands, why does this songstress surprise you You know my soft heart is molded by those who don't chew Howling at the moon For the king, and his concubines leap Dumbing down the news Soldier beetles: infect the June Why don't you give a hand, to the one who make the bread Oh Godly men, make their beds