Sawing on a Rusty Fiddle

We’re kidnapping the royal baby.

(Don’t worry, we’ll give him back.)
Don’t leave your love in savings!

I’ll have to hide the shavings
if I try to whittle my way out of this shack.
Kidnapping the royal baby

will be easy by comparison
to making a living with my truck.
I left my love in savings

and drove down to Tallahassee
with a load of fruit and a stash of smack,
planning to kidnap the royal baby,

who was lying low in a stroller near the Trading
Post. (What’s life but the ravings
of a lunatic who left their love in savings?)

OK, you have the meat, I’ll take the gravy,
but we’ll have to forfeit everything worth having
after we kidnap the royal baby.
We can’t deposit him in savings!