Two midnights gone
Wanting a ball is not wanting a Prince
Near may be better than far
But it still isn't there
Near may be better than far
But it still isn't there
The ball
So near
So far
You can never love somebody else's child
Two midnights gone
The way you love
So near
Your own
The prince
So far
The greatest prize can often lie
At the end of the thorniest path
Two midnights gone
Two midnights, two midnights gone
Two midnights gone
And the exhausted Baker and his wife buried the dead Milky-White