The Queen of hearts,
She made some tarts
and lined them up in rows.
When questioned why,
She gave a sigh,
a bigger pie she chose.
She's tried fur weeks
In time she sneaks
To make a tuna pie
To serve her darling,
But ends up snarling
It did no good to try.
Wif sniffs and sobs,
Her crust made blobs
That nefur would roll thin.
She rolled wif cans
And beat wif pans,
And cried in her chagrin.
The tuna fish,
Just as she'd wish,
Piled nicely up so high,
But oh, the cream
Would scald and steam
And curdle in the pie.
At last one day
Came Fate's okay,
A pie to make her sing.
She took it out
Wif happy shout,
And served it to the King.
