The Three Kings

The Three Kings

King one, he was a tight arse,

he spent only on what was needed.

King two, he was a minimum eater,

he was a skinny little bleeder.

King three, full of hours,

no one could trust him one bit.

As the kings ruled their lands with flair,

Their people watched with a wary stare.

King one saved every coin he could find,

While King two was hardly kind.

King three, oh, he played his games,

Leaving his kingdom in a maze.

But in the end, their tales were told,

And all three kings, though bold and cold,

Became quite hot in a Christmas story,

As they sat in a manger,

and became part of the glory.