I guess it is a well-worn story
A Queen, a kingdom, pomp and glory.
But, really, this Jubilee weekend?
I cannot help it, I shan’t pretend!
Was it not a right royal flop?
Were you not wanting it to stop?
What was the point of all those boats?
Yes, very nice, I see they float.
But chugging down the Thames like that
They just looked sad and pretty crap.
Beneath the clapping and the shouts
Queeny was screaming ‘LET ME OUT!’
She wished she wasn’t on that barge
Badly painted, garish and large.
Just take a look at her little face
(I’m sorry; I really am your Grace)
But the whole time you looked furious
Not surprised, in awe, nor curious…
They said it’d be like Canaletto
I doubt he’d paint that rainy boat show…
At last, after her day of dread
The Queen went home, and so to bed.
The Nation had had their Royal fill
Prince Philip was feeling rather ill.
You’d think we’d let them off the hook
And not demand another look!
But her royal subjects aren’t that kind
No, we had something else in mind!
‘Whoopee!’ A party at the palace
Ha Ha, we’ll pay you back with malice!
For all your jewels and posh buffets
We’ll make you sit through Jessie J!
And I’m sure I saw you wince
When, oh god, you heard your Prince
You tried your best, he went to school
Perhaps he was just born a fool…
When, oh yes, he called you ‘Mummy’
Something stirred within my tummy…
What the heck! Is this for real?
This man, this Charles, might someday kneel
Before you and be crowned our King
What a shocking, dreadful thing!
You might be old, and want to quit
To pack it in and learn to knit…
But please, Your Highness, don’t step down
There’s no one else to wear your crown…
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