“Oh mirror give me your answer true,”
When much to her distress
The mirror said: “It isn’t you.
It is the camp princess”.
This put the queen in such a state.
She freaked the princess out.
Who fled from the old bitch’s hate
As she was chased about.
The queen with a malicious smile
Then left that teeny gay,
Who quickly disappeared meanwhile
And wandered far away.
She reached a cottage open wide
And entered with delight.
For there were seven stalls inside
But nobody in sight.
She said: “It’s no good waiting here”
But peeping out she found
That seven dwarfs were lurking there:
It was their cruising ground.
Wanky and Randy went in first.
Then Bashful and then Peepy,
Then Sucky with his raging thirst,
Then Gropey and then Creepy.
The dwarfs were overjoyed to see
A gay so pure and sweet.
And followed in a row when she
Sat outside on a seat.
The dwarfs grew anxious when she said
That Snow White was her name:
The watchful queen, they knew with dread,
Would see her on the game.
The mirror told her all too well.
It pierced her jealous heart;
She mixed a potion, cast a spell
And used her blackest art.
She put the mockers everywhere;
To poison poor Snow White,
She threw an apple in the air:
The princess took one bite.
Alas, the fruit was meant to kill.
The dwarfs each shed a tear.
Thinking her dead when lying still
And placed her on a bier.
In vigil they stood side by side
And silently they wept.
Still wondering if she really died,
or if she only slept.
They heard a horseman far away,
And as he came in view,
They saw a prince handsome and gay
Whose body well they knew.
They welcomed him with great delight
Into that sordid place,
And when he saw princess Snow White
He bent to kiss her face.
The apple fell which did the trick.
To everyone’s surprise.
The gay was neither dead nor sick
But opened wondering eyes.
The queen watched from her miror; she
Was freaked out of her mind
And died in dreadful agony —
A warning to her kind.
“Let every queen give up her crown,”
They cried, “Let’s have no more.
All royalty should be put down.”
And each one cried “Encore!”
They formed a commune from that day,
Which numbered three times three.
And said “Far better to be gay.
And to be proud and free.”
Their gender roles went overboard,
They spurned the ancient lore.
And in harmonious accord
Were happy ever more.
This ballad will be performed as a 10-character mime at the GLF dance at Shepherd’s Bush on December 22, for which it was specially written.