My brave knight is but a simple peasant.
Swift he is not upon the earthen ground.
The chambers he keeps aren’t very pleasant.
His stomach is more than a little round.
He snoozes during the daylight hours;
He often forgets the tasks of the day.
With just the scent of danger he cowers.
Only nonsense he conjures up to say.
A new born baby can do more than he;
I must cater to all his wants and needs.
I care for him out of true love, you see.
Despite what I say it is he who leads.
Of his love, I admit, I am a hog.
Is it really a crime to love your dog?