Proper Charlies

Charles the First was the very worst
Till he got the chop at the hands of the mob –
Who wanted a say in to whom they pray,
And not being subjects ripe for the rob.

Charles the Second was a letch who reckoned
That the country had to polish his knob –
He may have been jolly, compared to Ollie,
But he still was a hypocrit and a snob.

And Charles the Third is a privileged turd
Who is screwing-us all for ev’ry bob –
He is honour-bound to keep folks down,
And to keep the upper class in a job.

Charles the Last

I will never condone an execution,
It is no solution to crime.
And I have no truck with zealotry,
Give me liberty ev’ry time !
So I won’t swing the axe for preference,
When my deference has deceased –
I’ll turf you out of your feathered bed,
But I’ll spare you your head, at least…

The Leech Clamps-On

Hang-out all the bunting,
And string-up all the flags,
Polish-up the fronting,
And hide-away the rags –
Toady-up with treacle
And dream of days-of-yore –
We’ve never been less equal
Since the Second World War.

Roll-out with the barrel,
And goose-step with the boot,
Sing along the carol
While standing to salute.
Tweet-away like blackbirds,
And dream-away like cats,
We’ve never been more backwards
Since our arses got so fat.

Shout-out for the new reign,
And ra-ra for the crowds.
Hope it turns out nice again –
Ignore the bolshy clouds.
Top-hole and tally-ho,
And dream we rule the waves –
We’ve never had a say, though,
Now we’re corporation slaves.

Dig-out the old three-piece,
And doff the caps and bonnets,
The fawning must not cease
In its biscuit-tins and sonnets.
Tear-up far too eager,
And dream of wealth unchecked –
We’ve never been so meagre
Since we sold our self-respect.