A king must always look his best
It is royal duty to be well-dressed
Yet, there's an event where his finest attire
Must be nothing short of fire
Fashion must be on full display
That day is here, Execution Day!
What to wear? What to wear?
Wear this tunic? Do I care
Maybe I'd look even better
In this funny Christmas sweater
Is this cloak the solution?
No, I wore it to the last execution
What to wear? What to wear?
Oh, this shirt, au contraire
Yes, I know, I'd be a real suave stud
But I don't want it covered in someone's blood
One might wonder why I care so much
Frankly, I use clothes as a bit of a crutch
When I was born, the doctor said steadfastly
"Look at this baby, ooh, how Gastley!"
Conrad, the charming one
I became the jealous son
I wouldn't have the shoulder chip
If my brother wasn't so hip
I dress myself to push the pain away
If only I could dress for his execution day
What to wear? Oh, skunk-hair?
Uh, I'd look better in my underwear
When that fool is on the chopping block
My outfit, it must truly rock
I've looked through all these closest rows
It seems I hate all of my clothes
I have no choice, I must dispose of them
And so the question grows, and grows, and grows
What to wear?
Oh, this is nice, we didn't even need the song
