Call Me a Princess [Italian translation]

Call me a princess, I don't care.

Call me obsessed with nails and hair,

only concerned with what to wear,

shallow and so blase.

Go ahead and call me "royal pain".

I'm unimpressed with your disdain.

Let me repeat one sweet refrain:

princesses get their way.

Other girls cook, but that's not relaxing,

princesses make reservation.

Life's much too short and, Lord, it's so taxing

ruling these darn Third World nations.

Some say that when I neg and whine,

nobody's voice is as shrill as mine.

Daddy thinks that I sound just fine,

he's in my royal sway.

Other girls study, why do they bother?

I study how to grease up my father.

Fathers were born to pay

and princesses get their way.

Call me a princess, I don't mind.

Selfish disgrace to womankind.

People need hobbies, I unwind

watching how much I weight.

Other girls work for law degrees,

some scrub the floor on hands and knees.

I'd rather have a facial, please,

slather her face in clay.

Soon I'll get married - what could be sweeter? -

to some Salim or Abdullah,

whoever he is, the two thing he'll need are

earplugs and plenty of moola.

Princesses write a check - it clears -

that's 'cause they spend those wonder years

running to dad and faking tears,

training him to obey.

Fresh outta cash? No problem, I drop a

snit and go running straight to my papa,

then everything's okay.

Princesses get their way,

believe it,

princesses get their way.

Fresh outta cash? No problem, I drop a

snit and go running straight to my papa,

then everything's okay.

Princesses get their way,

believe it,

princesses get their way.

Daddy? There was a terrible accident and

my chariot got crashed! I need to have a

new one! Can it be yellow? I love

yellow... Daddy? Hello?