Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.
Mother has come, with a basket to share.
All the good things that a young girl could need,
To keep you well while you stay home and read.
And now to my loom! To spin and to weave,
The fabrics that will sell on market eve,
That will buy us our bread, and clothes to wear,
And candles at night to light up our lair.
For I am Rapunzel, and this is my home.
A tower of stone, with no way out alone,
But Mother comes often, and brings news of the world,
And stories to fill all my days when she's gone.