Royal Cuckoo
My country is a grown up one,
do we need these kings and queens?
They own the land and interbreed
to protect their royal brand.
They kiss her feet and drink from
her mug, eat bacon from her plate
And in the past Elizabeth one, would
scrape your ashes from her grate
Now her descendant, dripping in
gold, and furs and caviar, doesn’t
Know you or me, but we the people,
pay her bills, and clean her lavatory
They’re all the same, rich parasites,
living off Britain’s honest folk,
Long live the queen and write a poem?
What a bloody joke!
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