How can a girl who's from a someplace north of nowhere be a princess?
What in the world would make you think that I was qualified for playing the part?
I'm from Roscommon where the major entertainment
Is to sit outside the pub and watch a fly on dog shite ? I?m not joking!
They have their football and their bibles and they don't believe in art.
I'm just a shopgirl who puts prices on the produce, not a princess.
My royal palace is the back room of a boarding house. Brick wall for a view.
I don't pretend to be a thing but plain and common.
When you're brought up in Roscommon, what's the use pretending.
I leave the fairytale ending to the people such as you.
They don't raise dreamers in Roscommon, only onions and potatoes.
You can only talk about potatoes so long.
No one there could ever see what you seem to see in me.
Well, possibly, Roscommon was wrong?
It can be beautiful out there, playing a part, losing yourself in another person.
Just for once, Miss Rice, being somebody new.
I'm throwing myself at your feet, your royal highness.
I don't suppose I'll ever have another chance to play a princess.
And here in Dublin it appears that the prevailing minds are not quite so small.
I swore I wouldn't spend my life back in Roscommon,
I'd be someone going someplace they would never dream of?
The only dreamer that Roscommon will be able to recall.
Seems like Roscommon raised a princess after all.
Last Update: April, 26th 2015